Cocaine Lights
by SARuhh
Summary: AU. After Luke's mentally unstable sister got back custody of his nephew, they disappeared. Now, ten years later, they finally resurfaced, and his extremely damaged nephew is thrown back into his hands. Jess and Luke centric!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Gilmore Girls is owned by the WB and the song title is from Phosphorescent!**

New Jess and Luke centric story! I came up with this idea so randomly, but I liked it. I hope you guys like it as well.

Please review and I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

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Liz was laying lazily on the couch, legs sprawled out, her dress sliding up to her thighs. She was staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide, intrigued with something that seemed to be up there. There was nothing there except a water stain, but to her, it seemed to be the most amazing thing in the world. Her stringy strawberry-blonde hair was a frizzy mess, the thick strands falling down against her shoulders, knotted and greasy as if it hadn't been washed for weeks--which was the truth. The bright hazel in her eyes had died down years ago, and that color had been dulled into the pale gray that colored her iris. The light seeping in through the blinds shined on her body, stripes running up and down her dress.

Her eyes suddenly rested on his, his brown eyes locking with her dull gray ones. She just stared for a moment as if he was the most intriguing thing she ever saw, before giving him a small smile. She raised her hand up and sent a weak wave his way, and he tried to smile back as truthfully as he could. He couldn't hold it though. The whole motion felt so unnatural to him, and his muscles were begging him to just relax them.

She slowly sat up on the couch and reached over towards the coffee table to grab one of his cigarettes. Those were his, bought with the few bucks he could spare, and he wanted to yell for her to put it back, yell for her to get her ass off that couch and get herself cleaned up and go out and get a_ real _damnjob, but he couldn't. She was in a good mood today, and he wasn't going to risk it. If she got all worked up, she may kick him out again, or worse. You never knew what she would do when angry. She sometimes just snapped and chased him around with the iron, or maybe even a hanger. Liz was like that

She scared him sometimes, she really did. It scared him that she could get so angry at him, it scared him that she was always high, it scared him that she was his _mother_. This woman, a blonde-haired, thirty-three-year-old junkie was not fit to be a mother. She didn't match up with the title and its image. A mother is caring and peppy, fun and lively. She was just a woman who was slipping fast away from reality, a woman with schizophrenia and a heavy addiction to coke. That doesn't fit the description one bit.

The door creaked open and his mother perked up, sitting up and looking over towards the door. Her smile appeared wide and bright this time. Ted walked in wearing a matching grin, his beer belly prodding out of his gut like an overstuffed pillow. He leaned down and planted a long, hard smooch on his mother's lips. The connection lasted for what felt like ages, and as they broke off their kiss, it was like Ted had sucked away at more of her life force. She laid back down with duller eyes and paler skin, and she slumped back down onto the couch.

Ted looked his way and sent the boy a sickening grin, and he suddenly felt his bile reflex act up quick. He held it back and looked off towards the TV that was shinning off images of an old television rerun, brightening up the dull, dark room. When watching TV he could escape from his mother and his life for a while. His mind would become completely absorbed in the story and would block out everything else. Books were his favorite escape though. When he had a good book he could be lost in the story for hours. He wouldn't have to wait for another episode to air and there would be no commercials to interrupt his thoughts and bring him back out. A pile of books sat in his room, stacked up high and cluttering almost half of the small space. The stacks were composed of classics as well as the works of a few modern writers. Bukowski, Hemingway, and Charles Dickens were a few of his favorites.

He remembered once when he was younger Liz had decided to destroy all of his books. It had been a few years ago, and she started up a huge fire in the back of their trailer in Omaha. She tossed books in with such force and rage that it scared him. When his mother got like that he didn't know what she would do. Hell, she could have even tried to throw _him_ into the fire that night.

She's been off her medication for ten years and the so called "voices" in her head had been set free again. They whispered lies and orders to her and she would believe and obey. Around the time of the fire, the voices were telling her that there was something wrong with Jess. He was changing, going from childhood to adolescence, and had quickly picked up an attitude. She burned the books because of the voices, she said they told her that they were corrupting his mind. As the years passed, she became worse. The voices told her to burn him with irons and use him as an ash tray. That was how he had obtained the many noticeable scars on his back. The one that stuck out the most was the words she had burned in with cigarettes when he was twelve. It had been terribly painful and he remembered her screaming and screaming at him while he screamed for her to stop. The words "Bad Boy" in capital letters were permanently placed on his lower back after that night.

All of his memories of Liz made her seem like this terrible person and made it seem like he had this terrible life. Maybe that was true now, but things hadn't always been that bad. There had been a short time when she was on medication. It was from the period of when he was two to six years old. His grandfather had taken him in for a few years and forced Liz into a hospital. Those few years had been very normal for him. He did all the things little kids did; played in the park, built snowmen, tick-or-treated, went to the zoo, all of it. He had friends, two little girls named Rory and Lane with two very eccentric and odd mothers, as well as a boy named Chuck. His grandfather owned a hardware store in a small town, and his Uncle Luke worked there with him. He remembered his Uncle Luke incredibly well--the baseball cap, stocky frame, and odd love for flannel. His uncle had been kind of awkward when it came to being a family man, but he pulled it off rather well for a bit. He also insisted that Jess refrained from calling him uncle. He wasn't sure why, but he obeyed.

When his grandfather died shortly after his fourth birthday, his Uncle Luke had taken him in. They moved from his grandfather's house to a small apartment above the hardware store, and his uncle converted the store into a diner. Shortly after that, Liz filed for custody. Of course, the court favored the biological parent over the uncle and since she was taking her medication and seeing a shrink regularly, they let her have Jess back. A few weeks later she stopped showing up to therapy and her and him made their first major move to Texas. The medication quickly disappeared after that and their moving became quite frequent. The moved almost two times a year. He never understood why, but after moving to New York when he was fourteen, the moving just stopped. He was sixteen now and had stayed at the same school for a record of three years. He had grown to love New York: the tall buildings, the parks, the vast diversity of the people; it was a great city that held a lot of good places to escape from his life at home.

"Baby," his mother's voice rang through his head, and the memories he had been caught up in quickly disappeared. He looked towards his side and spotted his mother standing in front of him, wearing a dazed expression and wide smile. Her hand quickly went up to his cheek, and Jess flinched back, a natural reaction he tended to have now. Touch just didn't feel right to him. Whenever someone brought a hand up towards him, he usually got a blow to the head.

Liz went at it again, and Jess fought the urge to flinch, letting her brush against the bruised skin on his cheek. She had done that. A few nights before she had slapped him over and over in a fit of rage, and he just took every hit. Running only made things worse, and when she was just smacking him around it was safer to let her get it out. After that she would be calm and exhausted, her steps sloppy as she retreated her way to her room to go snort a line.

"I'm sorry," she started up. If Jess didn't know any better, he would have rolled his eyes and let out a snort. She said that every time she hurt him. She never meant it though, or maybe she did. It was the voices, it wasn't her, right? _She _didn't really want to hurt him, it was the things inside her head that did. Everything was just so confusing for him, and he hated it.

"I know," Jess replied, his eyes traveling off towards the television. He didn't want to deal with Liz right then. Moments like this between he and his mother were always very awkward for him. The way she looked at him, dull eyes showing such concern and care, made him even more confused. She showed such care for him right then, but how could she really care about him if she did these things to him. You don't hurt the people you care for, that's not how it works.

She kept her hand resting gently on his cheek for a moment, wearing that concerned, motherly expression, while Jess kept his eyes glued to the television. He was trying to get absorbed in the story once again, escape his life and hopefully cause his mother to leave him be for a while. He really wanted to read a book though, it would be easier for him to get away that way--he always loved reading more than television--but the book he was reading was in his room, and he couldn't just get up and get it. The TV would have to do, he supposed.

Liz's hand eventually fell from his cheek at some point after he got sucked into the story line of the show, and she had wandered off to her room. Ted was in there as well, and he really didn't want to think about what they were doing in that room.

Jess stood up from his seat and walked over to the coffee table and picked up his pack of cigarettes as he walked to his room. He kicked the door shut behind him and picked up a book from his stack. Plopping down onto the bed, he opened up his pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips, hand sliding down into his pocket to grab a lighter. Once the stick was lit, he inhaled and exhaled a cloud of misty smoke. He opened the book he had grabbed from off the stack--ironically, _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest--_and began to read.

The story grabbed him in quick, and the world around him quickly began to disappear. He could no longer hear the loud blaring horns of the cars stuck in traffic outside, he could no longer hear his mother's moans from her bedroom. Everything that surrounded him was gone. He wished it could be that way forever. He wanted to stay stuck in some book for the rest of his life; it would be one hundred times better than staying in his own life.

He took another drag and rested his back against the bed post. Things felt somewhat normal in that moment, and that made him feel incredibly good.

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Jess had drifted off into a calm sleep about an hour after entering his room. The peace that had fallen over the house as he entered his sleep was quickly broken though, and the small crashes and yells from the living room stirred Jess awake. His eyes fluttered open and quickly landed on the door as he heard Liz storm her way over to his room, hand turning the knob and slamming the door open. The woman who entered the room was no longer his mother though; the voices had taken over and her own thoughts had been pushed somewhere far in the back of her mind. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Jess could quickly tell she was high.

He sat up quick in bed and pushed his fear deep down inside of him and put on a tough mask. He would never let his mother see how frightened he was of her when she got like this anymore, he wouldn't let anyone see his fear. Those emotions were meant to be hidden. She made her way over to him in a wild frenzy, voice cracking as she yelled, "Get up, get up!"

Jess quickly obeyed and stood up, keeping his expression numb and unreadable. Her hand quickly came up and smacked him hard across his bruised cheek. Jess backed into the wall and kept his gaze off towards the ground. Another slap, painful and stinging, against his other cheek.

"Who are you?!" she questioned with a roar as she pushed him hard into his desk, causing the lamp on top to fall and shatter to pieces, "You're not my son! Where is he?!" She grabbed her arms and shook him madly. He hated to let himself get beat like this, but he couldn't ever fight back. He didn't want to hurt his mother, he knew he could overpower he easily, but the woman was mentally ill. He wasn't going to start pushing her off of him. He'd let her get it out of her system. She was just hitting him, and he could handle that. If she had pulled out an iron or anything more vicious he would fight her to some degree. The feel of an burning iron to the skin is practically unbearable.

"I won't let you have him!" Liz's hands shot up to his neck and wrapped around it tight. Jess couldn't keep on his mask anymore, and his eyes went wide as she slammed him against the wall. Her hands squeezed tighter as Jess tried to pry them off. She slammed him against the wall again but Jess kept fighting. He had to get her off, he just had to. He couldn't breath, and his body was craving oxygen. He was so scared, he needed to breath, oh God, he didn't want to die! He tugged and tugged at her arms as hard as he could but she just would not let go!

Jess felt his legs go weak and his back slid down against the wall, Liz's grip never letting up. He clung to her arms, trying to pry them off. His legs started kicking as hard as they could, and he felt himself going lightheaded. He was seeing specks and he knew that wasn't a good sign. He could not die, he couldn't! He was only sixteen, and he had so much more he wanted to do. He'd been stuck roaming around with his crazy mother for all of his life and had never done one thing for himself. He wanted to escape her and start his own life, publish a book and live in a flat somewhere in Bristol. He wanted to be as far away from her as possible. He wanted to finally be happy. He couldn't die yet, it wouldn't be fair. He had been forced to suffer at the hands of his mother for ten whole years and it wouldn't be fair for him to die like this! The faint sound of sirens and banging could be heard. Jess caught onto them somewhat, but he could barely think anymore. All his body could do was kick and tug and fight until he was either dead or breathing again.

When the blotches began to take over his sight and he felt himself slipping, the tight hands that hand been wrapped around his neck were somehow pried off, and he let out a horrific gasp for air. He slid down against the wall, coughing and gasping frantically. _Inhaleexhaleinhaleexhale_; that was the only thing that was going through his mind at a frantic and quick speed. His eyes travelled over towards his mother who was trying to fight off the stocky police officer that held her. She kicked and screamed and cried, exclaiming, "He's not my son, he's not my _son!"_

Jess watched as the cop dragged her out of the room. Her dulled eyes keep their gaze on him the entire way, staring at him with such hate as he gasped for breath.

"You're going to be alright," Jess' eyes shot over to the police officer who was kneeling down beside him. She gave him a weak smile, trying to comfort him in some way, "We've called an ambulance and the paramedics will take you to the hospital."

Jess' frantic breathing had calmed down somewhat, but his body was still craving oxygen more than he'd craved anything before. He adjusted his position on the ground and banged the back of his head lightly against the wall, still trying to get back all of the oxygen that his mother had kept from him.

He was going to be alright, that was what the officer had said. What the hell was _she _talking about? His mother had just tried to choke him ... and then it hit him. Right as the paramedics rushed in, as they were wrapping any oxygen mask over his mouth.

His mother had tried to _kill_ him.

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Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you liked it!

Luke comes in next chapter, and for the rest of the story he will be there! I just needed to sort of set things up in a way.

I'll update as soon as possible, but in the meantime, please review! Hopefully you guys liked it, or I guess I'll have to just write it for myself.

Thank you all so much for reading!

:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Wow, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! I got so many and I'm so glad you all liked the first chapter.

Enjoy the second chapter!

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When the phone started ringing at three in the morning and awoke Luke from his well needed sleep, the man was more than peeved. It had been three in the morning, and he had work in less than three hours. He sluggishly had made his way over to the phone, and after a brief conversation, he had woken right up. The call had been from New York, and at the mention of his nephew's name he instantly perked up. It had been almost ten years since he had heard from either the boy or his sister. After the custody hearing when Jess was given back to Liz (a terrible mistake on the courts part) the two had run off and gave no forwarding address. Luke had known that would happen, he even testified that he believed if the boy went back to his sister he wouldn't survive, but they put him back in her care anyway.

The call had proved to him even more that the court had made a big mistake. It had been from the hospital: his sister had strangled his nephew in a fit of hysterical rage. She blamed it on the voices, and she kept crying out about it until they had sedated her. He had been assured his nephew was fine, the boy now resting peacefully in his room. He had been told to get up to New York as soon as possible, and that his nephew would be put under his charge since the whereabouts of the father were unknown, and that was what he was doing; speeding down the highway, doing eighty at four in the morning.

He still couldn't believe it. After ten years he'd finally be seeing his nephew again. The boy had been so close to him this whole time; not off in California or across an ocean, but an hours drive from his home. If he had known, he would have been up here years ago to take him away from his crazy sister. They should have never let him back into her care, they should have kept her in that hospital and threw away the key. He knew she would have hated that, but it would have been for the best. He knew she wouldn't stay on the medication without being forced to.

He remembered the first time Liz had gone off her medication. Jess had been two around then, and Liz was only twenty years old. She had moved out to Philadelphia with her boyfriend who she pronounced was _"the one" _and was living in a shit-hole apartment infested with rodents. His father had a feeling Liz had gone off her medication after he stopped getting calls from her, and he quickly enlisted Luke to go up there with him and see if she and the baby were alright. His father's feeling was right, of course, and they found his sister a mess. _"The one_" had, like always, left her and she had fallen apart after it. The apartment was disgusting, and Jess sat in a dirty crib, crying madly. His diapers were soaking and Liz had forgotten to feed him. Luke's father had quickly taken the boy up into his arms and shushed him, looking over to Luke to order him to pack up Jess' things and get Liz ready to go. Liz had been placed in the mental ward and put back on her medications while Jess was treated for malnourishment at the hospital. The young boy was stuffed full of IV's and crying for hours at a time. Luke couldn't believe it had happened, and his father had vowed to never let anything like that happen again.

Liz was afraid of their father; the man had a short temper and was very disappointed in Liz's life choices. His father had cared for her very deeply, but he was disgusted with her actions and what she was doing with Jess. She kept her mouth shut until his father died, and then quickly filed for custody back of her child. After that, Jess and Liz disappeared, and Luke wasn't sure if they were dead or alive. He didn't know what would happen to his nephew since she was back off the medication, and he was always worried that one day he'd get a call and find out the boy was dead. Thankfully, the call he had gotten assured him that his nephew was still alive, and he felt a sense of relief fall over him knowing that he was at least breathing. He was afraid to see what Liz had done to him over the years, he knew his nephew was probably full of emotional problems or some sort of mental disorder because of his sister. There was no way his nephew could come out a normal child after living with that woman for so long.

Luke turned into the hospital parking lot and quickly slid into a spot, throwing the gears into park and shutting off the engine with a quick flick of his wrist. He exited the car in a hurry and swiftly made his way inside and out of the cold November air. He knew his nephew was alright and there was no need to rush, but he just had to see it for himself to really believe it: he needed to see his nephew to make this whole thing stop feeling like some dream. He walked straight over to the desk and rested his hands on the counter as he leaned over to peer at the nurse sitting at a computer, looking at him with a sweet smile.

"Hi," she greeted, letting her hands fall from the keyboard and to her lap.

Luke mustered up a small smile, "Hey. My nephew, Jess Mariano, was brought in here a few hours ago."

The woman seemed to recognize his nephew's name and she typed something into the computer before grabbing the phone, "Yes, he's resting in room 405," she dialed a number into the phone before looking back up towards him, "the doctor told me to call him once you arrived; he needs to talk to you about your nephew's condition."

A moment later, the nurse perked up as the doctor spoke from the other end of the line, and she quickly went to informing him that Luke was there. The woman glanced up at him a few times, and Luke quickly felt his heartbeat raise. The way she was looking at him and what she had said was making him feel like something was terribly wrong with his nephew. He quickly felt panic rush over him, and he was worried about what else Liz had done to him. All he knew was that Liz had strangled him and the police were called by the neighbors.

The nurse hung up the phone and looked over at him, wearing a comforting smile, "The doctor will be here in a moment," she told him, "he'll take you up to Jess' room."

The woman went back to her typing, but Luke did not leave the desk. He just kept thinking the worst, and he was worried sick about his nephew, "He's alright," he asked, causing the nurse to look up his way, "right?"

"For the most part, yes." she told him, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile, "He'll be fine; he just needs to rest," she paused for a moment, eyes falling back onto the computer screen, "It's just--" she looked back over at him, smile disappearing for a brief moment before reforming as her gaze fell on someone behind them, "I'll let the doctor explain it to you," she told him, glancing over his way then right back to the man walking up to them, "Hello, Dr. Richard."

Luke turned from the nurse's desk and was greeted by a tall, browned-haired doctor. The man held a silver chart--Jess', Luke presumed--and slid it under his arm to give himself one free hand. He sent a polite greeting over towards the nurse, before turning his attention to Luke.

"Luke Danes," the doctor said, holding his hand out for the diner owner. Luke grasped it and shook it politely, "I'm Dr. Richard. I treated your nephew," Luke released his hand as the doctor motioned over towards a hallway, "let's get you to your nephew's room, shall we? We'll talk on the way there."

Luke gave a nod and followed the man as he started his way down the corridor.

The doctor quickly started up, "We're monitoring your nephew in case any complications arise, but he seems to be doing quite well. We've got him hooked up to an oxygen tank as well as an IV for the pain."

"The pain?" Luke asked, a little bemused. The boy had been strangled and he didn't believe Liz had hurt his neck or anything. They would have told him that on the phone, right?

"That was something I wanted to talk with you about," Dr. Richard told him as they turned the corner, "your nephew has a fractured rib, plus a hefty load of scars." He paused for a moment, as if he was letting Luke have time to let it all sink in, "We're not sure if your sister caused all of them, but there are definitely signs of abuse, as well as neglect."

Luke knew something like this was going to happen, but the news was still shocking and hard for him to hear. He had prayed that at least Liz would spare his nephew the belt, but apparently that wasn't so. God, this was all his fault. He could have protected his nephew, he should have fought harder for him, he should have gone out and tried to find him. He should have saved his nephew from his unpredictable sister.

"We're hoping that your nephew will press charges, but he seems resistant towards it," The doctor stopped in front of a door and turned to face Luke, "hopefully you can convince him. It would keep him away from his mother for good, I believe."

"I'll definitely try," Luke told the doctor. He paused for a moment, before asking, "Do you know where Liz is, by any chance?" He wanted to know if his sister was at a jail or some mental ward, hopefully back on her medication.

"She was arrested," the doctor told him, "the police said they took her to jail. If your nephew doesn't press charges, she'll be free to go."

The thought of that made Luke's blood boil. His sister needed to stay in jail and away from his nephew. She had tried to kill the kid, and there was no way that she should be free to walk off. He wouldn't let his nephew do that. From now on, he was going to take care of his nephew. He would file for permanent custody and hopefully, after this, he'd get it. He wasn't sure if he would be the best parent--he hadn't been that good when the boy was a kid--but he had to at least try, "I won't let that happen," Luke assured the doctor.

The doctor gave a nod, "I'll let you go see him," he told Luke as he motioned for the man to go inside. Luke stepped in and the doctor swiftly followed. His eyes set onto his nephew for the first time in ten years, and words could not describe how he felt. The boy had grown up _so _much. He was no longer that goofy, mischievous, small little boy that ran around with bright eyes and a lively energy to him. He was now the sixteen year old boy laying down in that bed, dark brown hair a messy mop on his head, resting against his forehead, white sheets covering his pale white skin. He looked as if he was already dead, and the only signs of life that came from him were the constant rise and fall of his chest and the beeping of the heart monitor. The wires and tubes that stuck out of his nose and arm winded up around the bed and trailed up to their own different devices; a monitor, an IV bag, and an oxygen machine.

Luke's eyes suddenly fell onto the nasty red marks on his nephew's neck; the only color he could see other than the purple and blue bruise that covered his cheek. Seeing those marks made things so much more real, and made Luke realize that his sister had _really _tried to kill her own _son._ She should have never been allowed to have him again, he knew she wouldn't stay on her medication.

The clank of a chart against the bed frame caused Luke's gaze to wander over to the doctor, "He was exhausted once he got here, so I suppose he'll be out for a while," he informed Luke as he looked over towards the boy, before turning and walking over towards the door, "I'll leave you in here for a while; I suggest you get some sleep as well, though."

With that, the doctor turned and headed out of the door and down the hall, leaving Luke with his long lost nephew. His eyes quickly fell over to the clock and noticed the time, before falling back over to his nephew. It was nearing six, and he should call Caesar to tell the man that the diner would be closed that day. He stared at his nephew, feeling the urge to stay by his side in case he woke up, but he really needed to make the call. The doctor had said he'd be out for a while, and he doubted that the boy would wake up at six in the morning.

He made his way to the door, and with one last look towards the boy, he made his way out and down the hall to the pay phones.

The phone call with Caesar had been short and straight to the point. The man understood and told Luke he hoped the boy would be okay, and Luke told him that he thought he would. The conversation had been a bit awkward at the mention of Jess, but that was expected. It was a tough situation.

Luke was not done after the phone call to Caesar though. He needed someone to sort this out with, and he could only think of one person to call. He punched in the numbers and waited until that familiar voice of Lorelai Gilmore rang through his ears and replaced the dial tone.

"Hello?" the Gilmore's voice sounded tired and half-awake.

He heard a yawn from the other end, before starting up, "Hey, Lorelai: it's Luke."

"Luke," she repeated his name after letting out another yawn, "why are you calling me so early?" she asked, "Oh my god, are you calling to tell me you're finally going to start up a pot of coffee at six instead of eight like I suggested? Cause that would be so marvelous, Luke!"

Luke rolled his eyes at the statement, "I told you I wasn't going to do that. Six in the morning is too early for coffee." he heard her let out a sigh before he continued, "Do you remember Jess?" he asked.

She kept quiet for a moment, before speaking right up, "The little six year old trouble maker who used to hang out with Rory? You're nephew?"

"Yeah," Luke said, "the child of my mentally unstable sister."

"Oh yeah," Lorelai spoke, going quiet, "Did something happen with him? I thought you hadn't heard from them in ten years."

Luke couldn't think of a gentle way to state the facts, so he just was blunt with it, "She tried to kill him."

"What?!" Lorelai was wide awake now, and Luke could hear her shuffling around a room. Her voice turned into a whisper, "What do you mean, 'she tried to _kill _him?'"

"She strangled him," Luke told her, instantly thinking of those nasty red marks on his nephew's neck from where her hands had been wrapped around it, "I don't know if it was the voices that told her to do it, but she almost killed him."

"Oh my God," Lorelai's voice sounded completely shocked, "what kind of mother would try to kill her own child?" she paused, her motherly concern quickly kicking in, "Is he okay? She didn't--"

"No, no, he's fine," Luke told her. He paused for a moment, "Well, he's alive. I wouldn't say he was really_ fine_, but he's breathing."

Lorelai nodded to herself, "He's not going to go back to her, is he?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he told her, tone sounding almost angry, "he's not going anywhere _near_ her."

"Good," Lorelai agreed, "she should have never been given him back. It was the worst possible thing to do." She paused for a moment, before starting back up, "Are you going to bring him back to Stars Hollow to live with you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "he's got no one else."

Lorelai kept quiet for a minute, before speaking up, "You should get back to him," she suggested, "call me if you need anything, alright?"

"Yeah."

"I'm serious, Luke. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me and I'll be there."

Luke's lips curled into a smile, "I will. Thanks Lorelai."

"I'll talk to you later then?" She asked.

"I'll call you as soon as I can."

"Bye, Luke," Lorelai hung up the phone and Luke was met by the dial tone. He pushed the phone back in place and headed his way down to Jess' room. When he turned the corner into the room, his nephew was sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy hair. He turned to look his way, hearing the small pound of footsteps against the linoleum floor. His eyes looked dull and tired, and he looked at Luke with confusion until a realization hit him.

"Uncle Luke," his voice came out hoarse and the boy quickly placed a hand on his neck. The hoarseness to his voice reminded him that the red marks were still there, and he didn't want to let his uncle see them. He noticed his uncle looked exactly like he had ten years ago; the flannel shirt, the baseball cap, the stocky frame. Everything was still the same except for the few signs of age on his face.

"You remember me?" Luke asked as he made his way over to the chair near the bed. Jess watched from where he sat, looking ready to jolt up if he came too close.

The boy kept his eyes down near the bed and nodded, "The flannel and baseball cap," he tried to keep his sentences short. His throat was sore and the hoarseness of his voice made him uncomfortable, "Remembered that."

"Oh," Luke nodded and watched as his nephew shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. The kid had let his hand fall for a moment to readjust the sheets on his legs and Luke's eyes travelled over to red marks that covered his neck. They stuck out against his skin, and it frightened him that Liz could actually do this much damage to his nephew.

Jess looked over towards his uncle and caught him staring. His hand quickly shot up to his neck and he gently covered the markings, "Quit staring," he insisted as he sent a glare the man's way.

"Sorry," Luke quickly placed his gaze over to the bed, feeling as if he had intruded on some sort of private thing. His eyes slowly travelled back over to his nephew's face, and he watched as the boy tugged at his IV.

"Stop that," Luke insisted, reaching out a hand to grab the boy's hand away from the tube. The kid jumped and backed up against the bed, trying to keep his fear hidden. His breathing had sped up a bit and he tried to kept on a numb mask to hide his true feelings.

"Don't touch me," he insisted with a forceful tone, "I don't like to be touched." The words had hurt his throat as they came out, his tone too fierce for his sore throat's liking. He brought a hand up to his neck again, self-consciously.

"I'm sorry," Luke apologized quickly, hands raised up, "I didn't know."

Jess gave a simple nod and backed away from the frame. He gently laid himself back down, trying his hardest to hide the pain in his ribs as he adjusted his body. Once he was in a pleasing position to him, his eyes settled back on his uncle, who was siting by his side, trying to come up with something to say.

"I'm going to sleep," he informed his uncle with a rough voice, for some reason feeling the need to inform his uncle of his actions. The boy shut his eyes and turned his head away from his uncle, adjusting himself slightly once again.

"Alright," Luke nodded, "'night." He rested his back against the chair, deciding that sleep would do him some good as well. He wouldn't leave his nephew's side though. He'd sleep in this stiff chair as long as the boy was lying in that bed, hooked up to machines and IV's.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!

I will try to get the next chapter edited as soon as possible, as well as work more on this. I've been procrastinating lately when it comes to my writing, and I really want to get back to writing more. Hopefully reviews can get me back in the mood!

Thank you again for reading, and please review!

:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all for the many reviews, I really appreciate it so much, and it helped me get myself to stop slacking and start writing again!

I hope you all enjoy the new chapter, and keep up the reviews :)

* * *

Jess had been the first to wake up, jolting up in bed, heartbeat causing the beeping monitor to go wild. His breathing came out in gasps and his hands quickly shot to his neck, feeling around to make sure the hands that had just been wrapped around it were not really there.

Luke woke up with a start soon after, sitting up straight in his seat and looking wide-eyed over at his panting nephew. The boy was covered in sweat, his hair soaked and sticking down against his forehead. He watched as the boy felt around his neck one more time, hands rubbing over the bruising marks frantically, reassuring himself that no hands were there and it all had been a dream.

"Jess?" Luke called.

A set of nurses quickly rushed in after hearing the monitor go wild and were swiftly at the boy's side, making sure not to touch him as they assured him that it had been a dream. His eyes traveled over to Luke and he suddenly felt completely embarrassed. No one was supposed to see him like this, and he hadn't known that his uncle was still in the room. He suspected the man would have gotten a hotel room or something to spend the rest of the night in instead of sleeping in that stiff chair.

Once he had calmed down enough that the monitor slowed its beeping, the nurses slowly made their way out, leaving Jess with his uncle and a warning that breakfast would be coming within the hour. He didn't feel like eating, and he hardly thought he'd have an appetite for a long time, especially after that dream. Liz had held him so tight, hands curled around his neck, just like the night before. But in his dream no police had come in and pried her off of him. There were no sirens, no rough gasps and coughs for air. He had been on the verge of death, her hands gripping his neck so tight that her nails were digging in and blood was dripping out...

"Are you alright, Jess?" Luke's question caused the boy to look over towards his uncle. The man looked so concerned, face showing that worry he knew he would find, that he had to look away. He hated getting looks like that; they always had a hint of pity in them, and he didn't need to see that. He didn't need anyones pity.

He ran a hand threw his soaked hair and responded, "Perfect," he looked back over towards his uncle, a little surprised that his voice still sounded raspy, but then he remembered that he had just been strangled less than six hours ago ... he had almost been killed by his mother only _six _hours ago. He briefly started wondering what had happened to Liz after she had been pried off him, but quickly pushed those thoughts away. Anything that had to do with his mother made him instantly think of the marks around his neck. Did she really hate him to the point that she wanted him dead? He knew he wasn't the best son--he was aware that he had a bit of a mouth and an attitude--but he wasn't _that_ bad. He had been the one that would help her to her bed after a whiskey binge whenever _"the one"_ of the month left her, _he _was the one that would take care of her when she wouldn't get out of bed for weeks because of it, all while taking every one of her derogative slurs and forms of abuse. He'd try as hard as he could to get back onto her good side, to make the voices like him again, but their hate grew with each passing month.

Jess forced those thoughts out of his mind and looked over towards the window as he brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He could feel Luke's stare and he deeply wished the man would look somewhere else for at least a minute. Everything was just so weird and awkward right then, and his uncle's gaze made him feel even more uncomfortable.

Luke didn't know what to say--he was never good in situations like these--so he kept himself quiet. Silence loomed over the two for what felt like ages, the only sound heard being the beeping of the monitor that followed the steady pace of his nephew's heartbeat. Jess seemed rather content with the silence, and the boy kept his gaze off towards the window, mind lost in thought. Luke felt the exact opposite, and the silence instead felt incredibly awkward and he was dying to break it. He shifted in his seat before suddenly proclaiming:

"I going to file for permanent custody of you." He felt the need to inform his nephew of this, and what a good way to get the kid's attention. The boy turned his head quickly to look towards his uncle with a raised eyebrow, sending the man a bemused look.

"Why?" his voice croaked out, no emotion behind it, nothing that would give Luke a hint to what the boy felt about his proclamation.

The question took Luke by surprise, and after a quick moment he responded with what sounded like the most obvious answer, "Because your mother almost killed you last night, Jess."

The boy's eyes quickly wandered off towards the sheets, his fingers playing with the IV in his arm. Luke almost went to pull the boy's hand off of the tube, but quickly remembered the way the kid reacted last time he tried to touch him. Jess didn't like to be touched, and that made Luke wonder what thehell his sister had done to the poor kid over those years when they had disappeared. He wondered if there were other incidents like this, maybe not as serious and maybe not reported, but still terrible none the less. He couldn't believe this had happened still, he couldn't believe Liz had really tried to kill her own son. He never thought his sister would go this far off the deep end.

"It wasn't her," the kid's voice came out soft and hoarse. He kept his eyes focused away from Luke, hand still playing with the tube. That was the truth, it really hadn't been Liz, it had been the voices. They told her what to do, they took control of her and forced her skinny, bony, pale hands to wrap around his neck and squeezed so hard that they left bruises that wrapped around his neck so perfectly--each finger visible--like they had been painted on. The marks were just another piece of artwork that the voices had made her create on his skin to add to their collection.

"Jess--"

"It_ wasn't_ her, Luke," Jess' voice came out with more authority this time, but the tone didn't match his stance. The boy's tired eyes were focused far off from Luke, and he was far too sleepy to send a glare the man's way. He was sore and his throat hurt terribly, not to mention the fact that his ribs felt the need to give off small stings of pain every so often; and to make matters worse, he was craving a cigarette, and he knew he would not be getting that anytime soon.

"Jess," Luke started, catching the boy's gaze, "do you really want to go back to your mother?"

Jess' eyes fell onto the bed and his fingers grasped at his hair as he shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to speak the truth, he didn't want to sound like he hated her, and he didn't want her to start hating him even more because he didn't want to stay with her. He wanted out--he'd wanted out for years, thoughts of running away coming into his mind every other month, but he never could get himself to leave; it would have hurt her too much. But he knew he couldn't go back there anymore, not after this. She had gone too far, and he knew the next time she may actually finish what she started and really kill him.

"No," he finally admitted, his eyes traveling off towards the window again as his fingers released his hair from their grasp, "I don't."

There was a part of him that wanted to stay though, a part of him that wanted to forget that all of this had happened, wanted to forgot that moment when she had her hands wrapped so tightly around his neck that her nails practically dug into his skin. It wanted to forget the pain, the way he fought and kicked as he tried to get her off, the blotches of black that obscured his sight; it wanted to forget all of that, it wanted to forget that she had tried to _kill_ him. He could go on living with her crazy antics for a few more years, that part would persuade him, then he'd be free, but then he'd realize he couldn't. She had really tried to kill him, and there was no way he would _ever _be able to forget that. He really wished he could though, it made him feel like complete shit knowing his own _mother_ had wanted him dead.

"You won't have to," Luke told the boy, "I promise you that." Luke's eyes fell onto the darkened marks that ran around his nephew's neck--they were starting to turn into bruises--and he felt a sudden surge of anger. Some of it was directed at his sister for doing that to her own son, but it was more directed towards himself. He should have fought harder, he should have protected Jess from this. That thought just would not leave him alone; he could have saved his nephew from all of this pain he if had just fought a _little_ harder to protect him from her. This was his fault, he should have saved him years ago.

"She'll never hurt you again, Jess." Luke told the boy, catching the kid's attention, "I promise."

Jess just sat silent for a moment, before looking over towards his uncle, finally making willing eye contact with him for the first time since he had woken, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Jess--"

Luke was cut off suddenly by the sturdy footsteps and voice of Dr. Richard, "How are you feeling today, Jess?" The man asked as he walked in and pulled the chart from off of the kid's bed. He flipped open the chart and clicked the end of his pen cap against it before looking over towards Jess.

"Fine," he replied with a raspy voice, dull eyes laying on the doctor.

"I heard you had a pretty startling wake this morning," he said, jotting down something on the chart before looking back up, "But other than that, everything feels fine?"

"Yep," Jess told the man, his gaze falling over towards Luke, then back to the doctor. He adjusted himself so he was sitting crisscross, feeling a small sting of pain from his ribs as he moved about, before continuing, "Can I go now?"

"I'd like to keep you in here until at least late tomorrow," Dr. Richard informed the boy, Jess going wide-eyed and peeved at the statement. Luke seemed a bit worried at this, and he quickly started thinking the worst. The doctor caught onto the uncle's worried look, and swiftly added, "It's just precautionary, that's all." His eyes shifted to his patient, "Your throat is probably just going to be a bit sore for a while, as well as your ribs, but other than that I believe you'll be fine."

Luke leaned back in his chair, feeling much more relieved by the doctor's words. He looked over to his nephew, who sat there wearing an irritated expression, sending the doctor the strongest glare he could muster before turning his gaze down and running a hand through his messy hair.

"There's something else we need to talk about though, Jess," the doctor told the boy, "about the bruises and scars that are scattered all over your body."

Jess noticeably tensed up at the mention of the marks, and suddenly became rather nervous. He didn't like to think about them, more the less _talk_ about them. People weren't supposed to know they were there. He kept them hidden for a reason, and now it felt like the whole world knew his mother had beat him. He had always felt like people would look at him in a different light if they knew what happened to him behind closed doors. They'd see him as this poor, beaten kid, who had a mother that was a mental case. They'd feel such sorrow and pity for him, and he hated that more than anything. He didn't need their pitiful looks and sympathetic smiles, he just needed them to forget they ever learned about it.

"Jess, did your mother give them to you?"

The doctor's question caught Jess' attention, and his eyes quickly traveled back over to the man. He glanced over to Luke, who was looking at him with such interest that it made him want to curl up and disappear. They both knew the damn answer, so why were they asking him in the first place?

"What do you think?" Jess retorted, crossing his arms and sending a glare the man's way. It was a weak attempt at his usual attitude-filled responses, but he was sitting in a hospital bed, attached to an IV and machines for Pete's sake. He was way too tired and sore to give much effort right then.

"I don't know, Jess," the doctor told the boy, waiting patiently as he tried to somewhat push the boy towards answering, "What should I think?"

Jess sat silent for a moment. He stared down at his lap, eyes glued to the IV in his hand and a random scar that Liz had left on his wrist, before letting out a sigh and saying, "She did it," His voice was soft and his eyes stayed glued to his arm, "will you leave me alone now?" He flipped his wrist and turned his gaze away from the old scar, looking up and over to the window, wishing that he could leave this hospital, with it's fluorescent bright lights and itchy hospital gowns. He was tired and annoyed and partially embarrassed over the whole thing and he just wanted to be alone. He really hated hospitals and this whole situation was too messed up for words.

"One more thing," he spoke up, causing Jess to roll his eyes, "are you sure you don't want to press charges?"

Luke sat up straight in his chair, ready to chime in if the boy gave any protest against it. He knew the kid kept believing it wasn't her, but if Jess didn't get away from her, the next time she may really kill him.

"I can't," Jess gave them a simple answer and turned his gaze towards Luke. The man looked ready to argue, but his uncle must understand why he didn't want to do it. Liz was his _mother, _for Christ's sake, and Luke's _sister_. She'd hate him if he did that to her, and he didn't want his mother to hate him anymore than she did--well, the voices hated him, not Liz ... right? God, everything was just so confusing, it always had been, but now things felt ten times worse.

"Jess--" Luke started up fiercely, ready to question him and knock some sense into him, (not literally, of course) but his nephew cut him off.

"I_ can't_," he repeated, putting emphasis on the word. He wouldn't let them change his mind, and he would stand his ground on this. Even if he looked weak sitting in that hospital bed, his voice hoarse and not sending off the message as well as he would like it to, he would not let them persuade him otherwise. His own mother was not going to hate him anymore than those voices made her.

"Alright," the doctor didn't want to argue with the boy anymore, he could tell the decision would not be changed by either he or Luke at the moment, "I'll let you rest now," he flipped the chart shut and placed it back at the end of the bed, "I'll be in to check on you later, but for now, please eat some food and get some rest."

As the doctor left the room, Jess adjusted himself on the bed and turned to gaze out the window again, trying to keep his eye contact away from his uncle, who he knew wanted to start asking questions about Liz. He knew his uncle would want to know more. Luke was always one to try to fix things, and he needed to actually know more than he did to attempt to fix anything concerning him. In Jess' opinion, his uncle shouldn't even be here. He wasn't the man's responsibility, and just because Liz strangled him didn't mean that he had to take him in. The idea of living with his uncle again wasn't a terrible thing though, and he kind of felt like he'd like it. He liked it back when he was little, and anything would be better than living with Liz, but things were happening so fast right then. His mother had just tried to kill him, now he was seeing his long lost uncle for the first time in ten years, and now everyone knew that Liz had abused him. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to live with Liz and deal with the pain until he could escape and move across the sea, far away from Liz and her crazy antics. No one would ever have to find out about the pain he'd been through. He would start a new life, write books, find a girlfriend, and be happy. Everything was just too much for him right then, and he desperately needed to escape.

"Luke," he kept his eyes focused towards the window as he called the man's name, not risking eye contact, "could you turn the TV on?"

The diner owner mumbled a quick "sure" and grabbed the remote off the table, finger pressing down against the red power button, causing an image to appear of the screen. Jess turned his head and focused on the TV that sat up in the corner of the room. Within a few minutes, he was absorbed in the story, and the reality that he was being forced to live through was stuck somewhere in the back of his mind, where he wished it would stay forever.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter.

Jess will be out of the hospital next chapter, and he will be back in Stars Hollow really soon.

In the meantime, please, please, please review! I love to hear what you all think about my story, and reviews make my day :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my own ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews, I appreciate them all so much!

Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

It was late afternoon when Jess was released from the hospital. The boy had been rather stubborn during his stay, refusing to eat for the most part as well as trying to pull out the tubes that were connected to his body. Luke knew Jess was uncomfortable--anyone could clearly see that--and the boy had been dying to leave the hospital, but he could have been a _little_ more cooperative. The boy had kept to himself for the rest of the stay, only speaking up to protest the doctor's suggestion that they take photographic documentation of the scars and bruises that covered his body or to remind Luke to "quit staring," at his neck. Luke was not trying to look at the marks, but they just stood out against they boy's skin. Those marks that ran around his neck were a constant reminder to Luke that he had failed the boy. His nephew could have died, and it would have been all his fault for not fighting harder for him.

To Jess, those marks--like all the others on his body--were just reminders of what the voices in his mother's head were capable of making her do. When they took control of her the mother he knew was gone, and all that was left was the angry woman who burned him with cigarettes and smacked him across the face with her rough hands. These marks felt somewhat different this time to him, though. That was exactly where her hands had been when she stole away the oxygen his body had craved, where she squeezed so tight that her nails dug into his skin. He had almost lost consciousness, and if that had happened, he knew he would have never woken up. If those cops had not come to pry her off of him, she would have killed him. His own_ mother _would have killed him. He had never been more afraid of his mother than he was now.

The two had made a stop at Jess' apartment; a cluttered, two-bedroom complex that smelled like piss and was infested by rats. Luke couldn't believe his nephew and sister had lived in a place like it. He at least expected them to be living in a clean building, not one like this. "This is where you two lived?" Luke asked the boy in astonishment, stepping over a mess of broken glass and trash.

"Home sweet home," Jess dryly replied, his voice still a bit rough, but thankfully sounding much more like it should. The boy was hoping it would soon be back to normal completely; his voice made him think about the marks around his neck, which made him think about Liz, and he was trying to get away from all that--at least for a bit.

Jess made a quick dash to his room, turning inside and quickly spotting his pack of cigarettes near the broken lamp. He kept his mind focused on what it would feel like to have that first puff, the one he'd been craving since he woke up in the damn hospital, and swiftly picked up the pack and placed a stick in his mouth. His lighter had fallen on to the floor, near some of the glass from the lamp, and Jess carefully picked it up, making sure not to cut himself, and his eyes feel onto a red and ashy circular burn on his wrist. He had his fair share of cigarette burns--the words in his back were formed by those near-perfect circles--but this one always seemed to stick out to him the most. Maybe it was because he saw it almost everyday--unlike the others--or maybe it was because it had been his first, he didn't know. Cigarettes held bad memories for him, but yet, he still managed to smoke almost a pack a day. It was funny, something that used to hurt him was now something that he relied on the most to assuage his pain. He wouldn't be able to stand it without at least one cigarette in a day, and the lack of nicotine during his stay in the hospital had been hard for him to handle.

He quickly lit up the cigarette and grabbed out his old duffle bag from his closet. It was worn and the green was fading out due to its constant use over the years, but the bag was reliable. He threw it onto the bed and began to stuff clothes inside, taking puff after puff of his cigarette.

When Luke entered to find the boy stuffing his clothes into his bag and smoking a cigarette, the man opened his mouth to speak up. He knew the right thing for a good parent to do would be to scold the boy for smoking underage, but he just couldn't get himself to speak up. His nephew's situation was so messed up, and the cigarette had seemed to calm down the tense boy somewhat, so who was he to stop that? If a cigarette made his nephew feel a bit better at the moment, then he could have it. Luke would just have to make sure the boy didn't keep up with the habit.

"Do you need any help?" Luke asked, the boy's eyes quickly snapping up towards him. He stopped his stuffing for a moment, and let his eyes wander around the room.

The cigarette was pulled out of his mouth, and the boy finally spoke up, "The books," he said, causing Luke to look around the room at the stacks of books that were scattered about, "I want them."

Jess placed the cigarette back in his mouth and grabbed up another random shirt from the floor.

"All of them?" Luke asked, wondering how the hell he was going to get all of those books into the back of his truck. He had no boxes, so he didn't know how he'd even be able to store them all for the ride to Stars Hollow.

"Yeah," Jess responded, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, "There are boxes in the closet near the bathroom," He told his uncle, the man raising a curious eyebrow at this, "Liz was always prepared to move," Jess clarified for him, "if the voices told her to, we'd be out of here within the hour."

"Oh," Luke gave a nod and watched as his nephew quickly went back to focusing all of his attention to packing and smoking. He seemed to be a bit uncomfortable when it came to his mother and her antics, and the boy had just reason to be. Luke would always wonder what it was like for the boy to be living with his nomad mother for all those years, but he highly doubted he would ever get any information on it. To be honest, he didn't think he really wanted to know. He had had his glimpse of it when he saw his nephew laying in the hospital bed, looking pale and weak, wires trailing their way out of his skin, and he didn't know if he would even want to hear about the other things that happened to his nephew. If his sister was capable of almost killing his nephew then who knew what else she had done to him over the years?

Luke made his way into the hallway and was back within moments, holding two large stacked boxes. He busied himself with packing up the books, eyes scanning over the titles as he placed them in the box. _A Lesson Before Dying, Ham On Rye, Choke, The Scarlet Letter, _so many books were thrown into the boxes, some with familiar titles, and some with titles he had never even heard of. He never pictured his nephew to be a bookworm, but apparently that was the case. It wasn't a bad thing though; reading was supposed to be good, and though he was not one for it, it was good that his nephew had a normal hobby, other than traveling across the country with his nomad mother.

Jess finished stuffing the last of his CD's into his duffle bag and pulled the drawstring, causing it to close tightly. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder as Luke stood up, carrying the two boxes, and put his cigarette out on an ash tray near his window. He had managed to go through three sticks as he packed, and he was still craving a fourth. His eyes had kept wandering over to the broken glass on the floor, which then made him think of how she slammed him into it, which forced his body to remember the fractured rib and the marks around his neck. He didn't feel the pain in his rib too much, thanks to a heavy dose of Advil, but it sometimes stung when he took a sharp inhale or moved the wrong way. The pain was bearable though, and he hoped it would be the same when the Advil wore off. He didn't like to take any medications, neither did Liz.

"Ready to go," Luke asked, causing Jess' gaze to snap up towards him.

It quickly traveled back to a fixed point on the wall behind Luke as he responded, "Yeah."

The two made their way out of his old room and into the living room, proceeding over to the old, beaten up door to leave. When Jess reached out to grasp the knob, he saw it jingle and he quickly recoiled his hand and backed away from the door. He kept on a blank expression as Ted made his way into the apartment, putting on a rather peeved expression as he spotted the boy.

"You've got a lot of nerve for coming back here, boy," He spat, edging closer to the boy. Jess backed more and hit the wall, keeping on his neutral expression instead of showing his true feelings. He had to look tough, he had to look unaffected, because if he didn't he'd have no chance. If Ted knew he was afraid of him, then it was all over, "You got your own mother thrown into jail."

"I didn't press charges," Jess told him, keeping his voice stoic and calm, "and it's not like you really _love_ her. You told me she was just a good screw, remember?" The conversation had been an awkward one, and Ted had been completely smashed when he had told him that. Jess remembered it clearly though. Liz was pretty much the only screw he could get, and that was pretty low, considering she was a nut case.

Ted had reacted to that, and Jess could see his face redden out of anger. It was like at any moment the man would blow steam out of his ears and charge at him like a cartoon character.

"You little shit!_" _Ted raised a hand up, ready to smack him, and as Jess awaited the blow, he shut his eyes, readying himself. It never came though, and the next thing that he heard was not the collision of fist to jaw, but instead his uncle's roaring voice.

"Hey!" his uncle's voice was loud and felt like it almost echoed around the room like a siren, "You _do not_ raise a hand to my nephew, you understand me!" Jess opened his eyes to find his uncle staring down at the man, having more than a few inches over him. Ted seemed so small to him now, and that thought made a smile curl up on Jess' lips. It was a great turn of circumstance; the burly man who made him feel small finally looking small himself.

Luke pushed Ted out of the way and let his nephew through. He picked up the boxes that sat on the ground and turned to face Ted once more, "And if you ever come near my nephew again, I'll kick your ass." He made his way out of the door and spoke to his nephew, "Come on, Jess, we're leaving."

* * *

The car ride had been quiet for the most part, the only sound being the hums of the engine and the low buzz of the radio playing out an old tune. The sun had made it's way below the horizon line and the dim glow of the moon had taken its place. Jess had drifted off at some point during the ride, and now he sat with his head resting against the window and an open book on his lap. He was wrapped up in an old leather jacket, the collar popped up somewhat to cover up the marks on his neck from Luke's sight. The position seemed somewhat uncomfortable to Luke, but he didn't want to wake up the boy, knowing full well that the kid needed any sleep he could get. His nights at the hospital hadn't been too well for him, and he kept waking up from nightmares with quick breathes and a fast heartbeat, causing the monitors to go crazy and start beeping madly. Jess would usually stay mum about what the dreams were about--if he even remembered them--and would just sit there, eyes gazing out of the window or glued to the TV. His nephew tended to zone out a lot, he had picked up on that.

His mind went to the small paper card that stuck in his pocket, the one the doctor had handed over to him after a brief conversation about his nephew's mental state. The doctor believed that his nephew would benefit from talking to someone about everything. Luke had to agree with him, but he knew his nephew had inherited the Danes family stubborn streak, and there wasn't really any way the kid would willingly consent to this. He didn't even want anyone _looking _at the scars, so why would he want to talk to someone about how he _got_ them. The whole situation was very messy, and Luke still couldn't believe it was happening. He didn't want to believe his sister was capable of doing something this terrible to her own son. It was the voices though, as both Liz and Jess had confessed. Without that medication, those voices were allowed to run free and tell his sister lies and get her to do terrible things like this. He never understood why his sister would rather have those voices giving monologues in her head rather than taking the medication that would stop it.

Luke turned the corner onto the familiar street that lead towards town square, where his diner sat, empty of its usual customers. He wondered if any of the townsfolk would remember Jess, other than he and Lorelai. The boy had been known by most of the town while he was living there those four years of his early life, but that had been ten years ago. The older residents would remember his sister though, and they would probably have a vague memory of Jess. Liz had grown up in the town, and when she was diagnosed with schizophrenia, the news has spread fast. It was a small town, and that was to be expected, of course. He expected the same for Jess' situation now, knowing full well that Lorelai and Caesar probably had not kept to themselves. He was sure Lorelai had kept some of the details to herself, but Caesar had probably gone off and told everyone he had saw. The information had had two days to travel its way around town and to every ear, so he was sure that most of the town was well aware of the situation now. The diner would be packed tomorrow with curious townsfolk waiting to get a glimpse of the boy, he knew that. He sometimes thought the town was too curious for their own good, but there was nothing he could do to stop their curiosity. It was a natural emotion, but the town was a little too ... straight forward with it, he supposed.

The whole situatoin strangely reminded him of the time he drove Liz home from the hospital, after she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She had been around sixteen, nearing seventeen. She had taken a pair of scissors and scratched up her arms, digging deep into the skin and craving degrading words into the flesh. It had been his father who found her, and she kept screaming about how they had told her to do it, and how she had never wanted to ruin her arms like that. She was in the hospital for some time, seeing a psychiatrist, or "headshrinker," as Liz referred to them, once a day. She was diagnosed with schizophrenia--which devastated her more than anything--and was put on affective medication. Luke had offered to pick her up, and the drive home had been silent for the most part, except for a buzz of a Dylan song playing low from the speakers and a soft hum of the engine. The town had heard of the news, and all were wandering around near the hardware store, coming in to buy plungers or parts for a broken toilet. They all knew that they weren't fooling his father--not everyone in the town could have had toilet problems in the same day, but his father tolerated it as much as he could. When Luke had brought Liz in, arms covered up in bandages and a ski coat on to cover them from sight, the townsfolk began to stare and whisper. That had been the last straw for his father, and his short temper burst. He kicked them all out and escorted Liz quickly upstairs and out of sight. Liz and his father had been extremely close for the months after, until Liz started going on and off her medication and rebelling much more than usual. She ended up pregnant with Jess four months after her seventeenth birthday, and that was that.

Now, instead of his mentally unstable sister, it was his emotionally (and physically) scarred nephew. It was a twist of fate; he never would have seen this coming, and he knew that things were only going to get harder from here on out. His nephew was extremely damaged, and this whole thing was just so ... _crazy._ Luke never imagined this would have happened, and now that it had, it was still hard to believe.

He pulled up to the curb in front of the diner and put the car into park. He noticed that most of the residents of the town weren't out, minus the few that were walking around the square, and he was thankful for that. He was extremely tired, and all he wanted to do was get Jess up into the apartment without the interruption of any crazy townsfolk expressing their concerns and get some rest. The last few days had worn him out, just as they had his nephew, and he was ready to sleep.

He turned his attention to Jess, who was still sound asleep in the seat next to him, leather coat wrapped tight around his skinny frame. Luke had made a mental note to get the boy eating three square meals a day and to get him to gain some weight. He was far too skinny for Luke's liking, he felt as if the boy would break a bone if he simply tripped. Luke placed a hand on the kid's shoulder, completely forgetting what Jess had told him earlier a few days ago, and the boy woke up with a start. He slammed himself against the door of the car, not awake enough to hide his fear. He looked so terrified, and Luke felt incredibly stupid for doing what he had done.

"Didn't we go through this already?" Jess exclaimed as he calmed himself down to the point that he could hide his fear and throw on his usual blank face. He cursed himself for being so off guard, for letting those emotions slip out. No one was supposed to see him like that; it made him look weak.

"I'm sorry," Luke apologized, watching as his nephew relaxed more and rubbed at his head: he had hit it hard against the window, "I forgot, that's all."

"Yeah," he replied, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the passenger door, hand still rubbing at his head, "you forgot." He slammed the door and walked towards the back of the truck, grabbing out his hefty duffle bag from the back of the truck.

Luke followed him swiftly and grabbed out the two boxes of books and placed them near the door, his nephew waiting patiently beside it, staring out towards the town square. He remembered parts of the town; the gazebo, the dance studio, the odd assortment of shops devoted to porcelain unicorns, and the odd peace that always seemed to fall over the town near night. The peace was unfamiliar and odd to him now, and he hadn't had this sense of calm in years. His life had been one event after another with his mother, and it seemed he rarely had a break from the chaos. It was refreshing, but still, it just didn't feel right to him.

A couple passed by--two people he could not recognize--and they set their gaze his way. They looked from him to Luke, then back to him again, and Jess felt uncomfortable under their gaze. He adjusted the collar of his coat to make sure the marks on his neck were completely hidden, but he sadly had no way of hiding the bruise on his cheek. He could feel their eyes on the purple swelling, and he sent the strongest glare he could muster their way, causing the two to quickly look off towards the other end of the street and whisper to each other.

Luke turned the key in the lock as Jess spoke up, "Did you tell anyone about ..." he paused, trying to avoid saying the words "mother" and "kill him" in the same sentence yet again, "the _thing_?"

Luke looked up towards the boy and watched as he rubbed a hand against his neck, eyes drifting off towards the center of town, "I may have told a few people," Luke admitted as he opened the door, causing the boy to send a glare his way.

"Good thinking, Uncle Luke," the boy sneered, making his way inside, "spread the word around so everyone knows how screwed up I am."

"Jess--"

Before Luke could get another word out, the boy was already up the stairs and the apartment door was slammed open. He made his way up slowly, making sure not to drop the boxes on his way up the stairs, and found the boy pouring his clothes out onto the floor near his old bed. Luke had kept the old thing up, never really having the time to take it apart and bring it down to the dump. No, he had kept it because he wanted to, he knew that. He was always prepared for a call or a sudden appearance from his nephew, not sure when Liz would just go too far or just abandon him all together.

"I never had time to take apart your old bed," Luke explained as the boy sat down on the mattress, giving the man a raised eyebrow at the statement.

"Yeah," Jess replied, laying down against the comfortable mattress, "right." Jess didn't believe he hadn't had the time to take down the bed after ten years of him not being there, but he didn't really feel like having any long conversations right now. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep. Even though he wouldn't have his music to keep his mind concentrated on that other than his past, he felt he was tried enough to avoid dreaming altogether.

Luke dropped the two boxes of books near his nephew's bed and sat down on the couch, eyes drifting over towards his nephew every few minutes, waiting for the signs that his nephew was fast asleep. It didn't take long when the boy was this tired, and he was out cold within minutes.

The diner owner let out a sigh and ran a hand though his hair as he slouched down into the couch. It really just struck him that he was a parent now, and that his nephew was truly going to be with him for good, pending on the custody case he would file. He'd have to get on that in the morning, as well as figure out a way to take care of a teenager in the first place. He hadn't been the best at parenting when Jess was a child, and now he had to take care of a seventeen year old who had spent years living with an unstable mother. His life was about to get ten times harder than before, but he had no choice. He would help his nephew, he would fix what had happened to him. It was his job as an uncle--as a _parent._ Things would be better for his nephew from now on; Jess would finally be safe, he would make sure of that.

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Thanks you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and please review!

You guys will love to hear that the next chapter is a whooping _eleven_ pages, so I'm in for a hell of a lot of editing, haha. I may post it on Wednesday, as a Thanksgiving gift to you all, but that all depends if I can get the next chapter written and done, as well as the next chapter for my Charmed story that needs some attention as well.

Reviews are loved and always help me get my creative juices flowing, hence why the next chapter is eleven pages long :)

Thanks again for reading, and I will try to update as soon as possible!

:)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I appreciate them all so much! Sorry it took me so long to get this up, I didn't have time Wednesday and the terrible work weekend I am having as left for little free time to edit. I have been trying to split my time between this story and my Charmed one, but I have been seriously neglecting my Charmed story, so I am trying to get back into that.

Enjoy the chapter! :)

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The next morning Luke's prediction was right, and the diner was packed full of customers waiting to get a glimpse of the now grown boy that used to run around their town playing games with Rory and Lane. The two girls were part of the crowd, as well as Lorelai, and they all three sat at the same table, the Gilmores drinking their usual cup of coffee. He could hear Miss Patty gossiping with Babette, the two older woman going on about his crazy sister and that "_poor_ boy" who was sleeping upstairs in the apartment. Well, the last time Luke checked, the kid was sleeping. It was now nearing 11 and he wasn't sure if the boy had gotten up or was still out. He would understood if his nephew was still asleep: the boy had had a rough night again last night, and he had found his nephew up and shuffling around the apartment, reading books or sneaking a smoke near the window frequently. Whenever Luke was woken by the noise his nephew was unintentionally making, he would ask if he had had another nightmare, like at the hospital, and the boy gave the simple and peeved reply, "It's _none_ of your business," every time. Jess seemed pretty frustrated with himself over the whole thing--the boy really did want to get some peaceful sleep--but he could tell that the kid was used to it. These nightmares were a common occurrence for him, it seemed, and the kid just dealt with it the only way he could think of: by not sleeping. He'd have to figure out a way to help the kid, because his sleeping patterns definitely were not healthy. Maybe they could go see a doctor or something? There had to be a way to get these nightmares to leave his nephew alone.

Luke grabbed a coffee pot and went to the counter to refill Kirk's mug, who had been sitting there with an impatient look because he had had to wait for a minute with his hand raised up slightly in the air, holding a mug.

He sped his way past the man, ignoring the comments Kirk made about his long wait, and walked over towards Lorelai, who was staring intently at a menu. Luke had to roll his eyes at this. The woman had memorized his menu years ago, and he hardly put anything new on it.

"What can I get you three?" he asked as he reached the table, pulling out his order pad from his pocket and sliding his pencil out from his ear.

"Nothing for me, Luke," Lane told the man with a smile, "I'm just hear to get a possible glimpse of Jess."

"Lane!" Rory exclaimed, crossing her arms and giving her a friend a disapproving look due to her bluntness.

"Oh, come on Rory," she exclaimed, giving her a friend a smile, "We both used to have a major crush on Jess when we were little," Rory instantly went red at this, and Lorelai looked up with amusement. She remembered that. Rory and Lane would always be fighting over who would marry the boy, and the girls could really get at it. They would always promise to share him at the end of each argument--Rory's logical suggestion being that they could _both _marry him--and the two girls would run off, that tiny fight all behind them, "Remember the time you proposed to him in the park?" Lane asked, wearing a wide grin as she noticed her friend go even redder.

"I did not!" Rory exclaimed, catching Luke's amused glance as she averted her gaze away from Lane.

"I actually remember that quite well," Lorelai chimed in, placing her menu down on the table, "You got down on one knee and gave him a small cardboard box with a cheap little plastic ring from a vending machine in it." Lane laughed at this, and, if possible, it seemed Rory had gotten even redder.

"Your father was there," Lorelai turned her gaze over to Luke with a smile, and the man's smile softened a little at the mention of his deceased father, "he was sitting with me on the bench, watching Jess. He was always so good with him," Luke's smile grew again when he remembered how well his father had been with his grandchild. Despite his problems with Liz, he still managed to love that boy more than anything. Lorelai let out a laugh before she continued, "And Jess looked completely shocked over the whole thing, those puppy dog eyes of his went wide. He accepted though, but you made him promise to marry Lane too."

Rory covered her face and mumbled, "Please stop, mom. This is embarrassing," A few of the other occupants of the diner had taken up to listening, and Miss Patty and Babette had started up with the exaggerated and drawn out "_awws_" and added in "that's so _cute_" every few moments.

"I remember him being such a cute little boy, Luke!" Miss Patty exclaimed, catching Luke's attention. Babette added a nod of agreement and Lorelai couldn't help but smile. Jess had been an adorable little boy. His big light brown eyes and that mess of dark brown hair, along with that cute--but sometimes devilish-- crooked smile, had made the boy quite the cute kid.

"Did he grow up to be that handsome hunk we all thought he'd turn out to be?" Miss Patty asked, giving a wink over towards Luke. Her eyes travelled over to Rory and gave her a wide smile, "For Rory's sake?"

"Miss Patty!" She exclaimed, getting flustered once again, "I have a boyfriend!"

"Well," she started with a shrug of her shoulders, "it's always good to keep something on the side, you know," she gave another wink towards Rory, "to spice things up."

Lorelai and Lane burst into laughter at this, and Rory quickly covered her face, completely embarrassed that the whole conversation was even happening, "Oh my God," she exclaimed, drawling out the last word as she hid her face further from sight.

The sudden burst of music from upstairs quickly caught Luke's attention, and Lorelai and Lane quit their laughing after hearing it as well. It wasn't blaring in volume, but it was pretty damn loud. David Bowie's song "Changes" was blasting from the stereo above, and Lane and Rory both smiled with approval of the choice. Luke knew that he'd have to go up there and get the kid to turn it down, but at least it had alerted him that his nephew was finally up. He had been meaning to check up on him, but hadn't had the chance yet.

For some reason, Lorelai felt as if she had suddenly got a slap in the face and was taken away from memory lane. The Jess up in that apartment was not the cute, innocent little boy that ran around pretending to be married to her daughter and Lane anymore. He had gone off and vanished with his unstable mother for ten years, going through God only knows what, and was back here because his mother had tried to _kill _him. Jess had changed, and the Jess that she remembered no longer existed. Not after living with that woman.

Lorelai looked over to her friend, and she noticed he too had seemed to have had that hard slap to the face as well, that smile that had been there moments ago disappearing, They both realized the same thing: the kid listening to Bowie up above them was in no way the Jess they had been reminiscing about. He had gone through too much to end up coming out anywhere near the same wide eyed boy they remembered. Maybe there was a little part of that carefree child left inside of him, but it had to have been pushed aside in order for him to survive while living with his unstable mother. There was no way he would have been there that day if he had stayed that innocent boy.

"I should go check up on him," Luke spoke up, meeting Lorelai's gaze. He motioned over towards the stairs, "Make sure he gets something to eat."

"Yeah," Lorelai gave Luke a smile and a nod, "go on and go. We can wait a few minutes for our food." She paused for a moment, before adding, "Besides," she picked the menu back up and began to study it once again, "I'm still searching the menu to see if there's something on here I haven't tried yet."

Luke gave a nod and turned, starting his way back towards the curtain that hid the stairs from view. He stuffed his order pad and pencil back in their rightful places as he pushed the curtain aside. His feet paced quickly up the stairs and he grasped the door handle as he reached it. When he twisted it open and was allowed a view of the room, to his surprise, his nephew was nowhere in sight. He spotted the stereo--an old, tiny, little thing that Luke barely ever used--sitting near the boy's bed, blasting almost at full volume. He twisted down the volume and caught onto the chatting of two random characters that was coming from the TV. He looked up and spotted an overplayed action movie that he felt he had seen almost twenty times turned on. He made his way over to the TV with a roll of his eyes, wondering why on earth his nephew felt the need to listen to music as well as watch TV, and pressed down on the power button. The voices ceased as the image disappeared with a static snap.

He suddenly heard the faucet start running in the bathroom, and he turned his head over towards the sound, spotting the bathroom door closed and concluding his nephew was in there. It explained why he hadn't spotted the boy earlier. He picked up the scent of cigarette smoke and looked over towards the window, spotting a smoking cigarette sitting on an old plate of his. Luke let out an exasperated huff as he made his way over to the window and picked up the cigarette, throwing it down to the pavement with a swift flick of his wrist. He was going to have to work on getting the boy to quit smoking, as well as set some rules, like don't smoke in the apartment, causing it to reek of smoke.

Luke heard the door to the bathroom creak open, and quickly turned to spot his nephew, running a towel through his wet, soggy hair. Luke's eyes quickly landed on the boy's exposed chest, catching onto the assortment of scars and bruises that covered it. You could see a sickening purple swirl where his fractured rib was, and what looked like burn marks and pink colored lines that traced their way up his chest.

"Shit!" The boy let out the harsh curse as he spotted his uncle and quickly slipped back into the bathroom, "I thought you were working!" He called from behind the door, resting his back against the adjacent wall near it. His eyes travelled down to the assortment of scars on his chest, and he shut his eyes as the memories started to flood back in. He could remember how he had obtained every burn, lash mark, and cut. The events were all branded permanently in his memory. He cursed himself for forgetting a shirt when he went off to get showered. He remembered pants, but not a shirt. It had been such an idiotic mistake, and he should have expected Luke would make his way upstairs to check on him eventually.

"I heard the music and I came to see if you were up," Luke's voice had gotten a bit louder, and Jess could tell the man was right near the door. "Well, I knew you were up, because David Bowie was blasting through my diner, but--" The elder Danes paused and stopped his rambling, waiting for some sort of reply from his nephew, and besides, Luke honesty didn't know what to say; all he could do was go over what he had saw on his nephew's torso in his mind, over and over. He couldn't believe that those marks were really there, the glance had been so quick, but he knew he had saw them, and it caused him even more pain to realize that it had been his own _sister _who had given the boy those scars.

"Could you get me a shirt, Luke?" the boy asked, running a hand though his soggy hair as he banged his head back against the wall, punishing himself for his stupidity. No one was supposed to see those scars--it was humiliating enough that he had to see them every day, but now his _uncle_ had to have gotten a glance at them.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Luke stumbled with his words, the boy snapping his thoughts away from his marked up torso for a moment as he wandered over towards Jess' bed, in search of a shirt. His gaze darted around, stopping when he spotted a pile of shirts lying on the floor near the end of his bed. He grabbed up the first shirt he could find--a simple tan t-shirt--and rushed his way to the door. He just stood awkwardly for a moment, before giving a knock on the door and calling, "Uh, Jess..."

The boy cracked the door open and Luke caught a glimpse of one of his light brown eyes, as well as the nasty bruise on his cheek. Luke held out the shirt and Jess stretched out an arm and grabbed it quickly from him, shutting the door swiftly as his hand was safely inside. He emerged moments later, bare, scared torso that had once been visible before now covered, and walked his way past Luke.

"Give a warning next time," Jess informed his uncle, turning to glance over at the man, "you weren't supposed to see that." Jess tugged at his shirt self-consciously, trying to pull it down as far as it would go as his eyes set on the stereo. He ran a hand through his damp hair and twisted the knob on the stereo near his bed, causing David Bowie's voice to blare loudly out of the speakers.

"Jess," Luke watched as the boy walked past him, and his eyes feel onto the marks around his neck. They stuck out, and Luke couldn't help but give a glance their way, "Did your mother give you all--"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jess interrupted his uncle harshly, and glared over his way as he made his way to the window, trying to find the cigarette he'd been smoking. He noticed that his make-shift ash tray was empty and instantly figured his uncle had thrown his cigarette out of the window. He pulled out his pack from it's place between the two couch cushions it had fell between and slid out a stick. He turned and pointed pointed a stiff finger his uncle's way as he placed the stick in his mouth, "You owe me a cigarette." He informed the diner owner as he flicked the thumbwheel of his lighter and lit the stick that sat between his lips.

"Jess," Luke started, the boy's eyes darting up towards him and away from the end of his stick, "could you possibly go smoke outside?" He asked, "I'd rather keep the stench of smoke out of my apartment, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Jess replied, plopping down onto the couch and turning the TV back on, "Just as once as everyone is out of the diner, then I'll head on out."

Luke's eyes fell onto the bruises on the boy's neck again, and he suddenly realized why the boy was keeping himself cooped up in here. The town knew what had happened, and he didn't like that, so why would he go downstairs and flaunt his bruised neck for everyone to see? Jess was very self-conscious when it came to the marks on his body, and he didn't like the fact that even his uncle knew about them, so now that others knew about what his mother had done, he wouldn't let them see proof of it. The kid knew he'd have to go outside eventually, and those bruises wouldn't heal until after a month or so, but for now, he wanted to stay out of the eye of those ever curious men and woman that made up the inhabitants of the small town.

The boy kept his eyes glued to the TV as he smoked his cigarette, watching it with such interest that he didn't even notice when Luke turned down his stereo once again. The man let out a sigh and looked back over at his nephew, who sat on the couch with his knees up and toes hanging off the edge. The kid let out a cloud of smoke from his mouth and reached out to tap the ash off the end of his cigarette, eyes never leaving the screen for more than a brief second.

Luke felt awkward just standing in the middle of the apartment, and desperately felt the need to do_ something_. He could go back downstairs and start working again, but he desperately wanted to get his nephew away from that TV and get him doing something that involved talking. He had noticed during his few days with the boy that he seemed to get absorbed in his books and the TV, and he quickly became silent and distant. It was like he had escaped off to some other plane, and the kid tried to stay there as long as he could. It worried Luke to see him like that, and he wanted to keep his nephew talking and actually focusing on reality for as long as possible. It wasn't the best reality, he knew that, but he needed to keep himself grounded in it for as long as possible. His nephew was a pretty distant kid, but seeing him this unresponsive made Luke determined to keep him grounded as much as possible. It reminded him of Liz, to tell the truth. She used to do the same thing, and Jess seemed to have picked that up from her.

"Have you eaten yet, Jess?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to the boy. When he got no reply, he took a few more steps and gently reached over to touch the kid's shoulder, feeling that a gentle touch would hopefully snap him out of it without causing his nephew to flinch away.

The boy flinched slightly at the touch, not as much as he usually did, and turned his gaze up towards his uncle. He looked down towards the hand that was gently resting on his shoulder, feeling uncomfortable with the extra weight, before looking up towards his uncle, "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulder away from Luke's light grip.

"I asked if you had eaten anything yet," he informed the boy, watching as he took a drag and looked back over towards the TV, "Jess," he called again, grabbing the boy's attention and causing his eyes to snap back towards him. He wasn't going to let Jess get sucked back into the TV, not yet, at least.

"You have no food," the kid declared, taking a drag and looking back at the TV.

"I have tons of food," Luke defended, crossing his arms.

Jess looked up at him as he exhaled smoke and tapped the ash off the end of the stick before speaking up, "I don't eat health food," he insisted. He had looked through the whole kitchen, and all he could find was organic, healthy foods that he had never really cared for. Liz never bought that stuff, most of the time their house was supplied with a few boxes of cereal and a cartoon of milk. That as was far as the menu went in their apartment. Liz lacked tons of money, and she didn't really focus her time on making sure he was feed, she focused her time on making sure he wasn't sometimes, though. Starvation had been a punishment for him a few times; he'd always choose that over anything physical. Liz usually ordered take-out or simply didn't eat at all. It depended on how gone she was due to the drugs or whether she was in one of her moods and the voices had taken over. He had resorted to digging through dumpsters behind take-out places after a while, as degrading as it was, and sometimes even took a quick stop at a soup kitchen. He didn't do that too often though. Those people tended to ask too many questions about things that were not their business, and he couldn't risk them finding out about what his mother was doing to him.

Luke rolled his eyes at this and crossed his arms, "It's not _health _food," he declared, "it's just good for you."

"Yeah," Jess said, eyes stuck back on the TV, "and that's the definition of health food, Uncle Luke."

Luke let out an irritated sigh at his nephew's use of "uncle" before waking into the kitchen and pulling out a mixing bowl, "I'll make you some pancakes then, how about that?" Luke offered. It wasn't really a choice of yes or no for his nephew, since the boy would be eating them no matter what, as well as getting those painkillers into his system. He knew Jess was trying to hide the fact that he was in pain, but he had caught onto the quick flashes of contorted features and small groans as the boy accidentally took too deep of an inhale or moved his torso just a bit too quickly.

"Whatever," the boy replied, eyes glued to the TV as he started to focus back on the movie he was watching. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and took another lengthy puff.

Luke busied himself in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients and pouring them into bowls, combining them all like the recipe he had memorized had told him. He mixed the batter with a whisk, taking glances over at his nephew every few minutes as he moved about the kitchen, setting up a pan on the stove and pouring a glop of batter onto it. Jess just kept up his smoking, eyes glued to the TV. Whenever a commercial would come on, the boy seemed to snap back into reality, and he would give a glance towards the window or over towards the boxes that his books were stacked in. They still hadn't unpacked any of them, and all of Jess' clothes were just scattered about the floor, cluttering his side of the apartment.

Once the first three pancakes were ready, Luke quickly slid it onto a plate and hastily made his way over to his nephew, "Jess," he called.

The boy ignored him, eyes still stuck on the TV as he took another puff of his cigarette. Luke rolled his eyes and made his way up to the TV set, and with a flick of his wrist, the image on the TV disappeared and Jess blinked before sending an irritated look the man's way.

"Breakfast is ready," he informed his nephew, watching as the boy took one last drag of his cigarette before standing up and tossing it out of the window. Luke met the kid at the window and pulled the frame shut, turning his gaze back over to Jess to add, "How about you take a break from smoking for a bit?" he suggested, watching as the kid rolled his eyes as he turned and headed over to the table, "I think you've smoked half a pack since you left the hospital; you're like a chimney."

"No," Jess shook his head, "I only smoked _nine _of them," he replied as he plopped down into a chair. Luke grabbed his plate from off the counter and placed it in front of him. There were three pancakes stacked up on it, all cooked to a nice golden brown.

"Well," Luke replied as he poured Jess a cup of milk and grabbed the Advil from off of the counter as he sat down, "let's save the tenth one for later then, shall we?" He watched as Jess picked up his knife and fork and began to cut the stacked cakes.

"Whatever you say, _Uncle_ Luke," he responded, a small smirk curling on his lips as he noticed his uncle's features contort to show a little bit of annoyance. He stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth and began to chew. They were delicious, and he had completely forgotten how great his uncle was at cooking. He hadn't had pancakes since he and Liz had stopped at a diner one day on their way to New York, and even those hadn't been this good. When he was younger, still living with his grandfather and uncle, he used to have them every Saturday morning. He remembered Luke would be up bright and early like he always was, shuffling his way around the kitchen as he flipped and poured pancake batter onto a pan. The aroma filled the house and Jess would rush downstairs with a grin, meeting up with his grandfather, who was coming back from outside, a newspaper in his hands, at the front door. He had never had any memories like that with Liz. There never was a smile on his face when his mother was with him--well, never a genuine smile, at least.

Jess stuffed another slice of pancake into his mouth before gulping it down and going for the milk. He took a long, refreshing swig as Luke started up talking.

"Jess," he began, causing the boy to glance up his way, "I set up an appointment with a lawyer today."

Jess placed the milk glass down and pointed his fork at his uncle, "I told you I was _not _pressing charges," he reminded, sending a glare his uncle's way.

"This isn't about what she--" he paused, eyes quickly falling onto the bruised marks that stuck out against his nephew's pale neck, quickly making the diner owner loss the will to finish his sentence, "Jess," he started again, watching as the boy brought a hand up to his neck, "this is about the custody case."

Jess poked his fork into the stack of pancakes on his plate, suddenly losing his appetite, "Oh," he exclaimed softly, stabbing at the pancakes once again.

Luke watched as Jess poked at his food, puncturing holes into the pancakes with a gentle force. Luke's eyes fell onto the hospital band that was still wrapped around his nephew's wrist; the boy's name typed in all caps, date and age typed right below it, and finally, the barcode. He wondered to himself how many similar bands had been wrapped around his nephew's wrist over the years, he wondered how many times he ended up in there because of _her_. He was hoping not as many as he expected, he prayed Liz hadn't treated his nephew as bad as this all of his ten years with her.

Jess slouched back in his chair, still poking at his food. Luke adjusted himself in his seat and sat up right, deciding to continue with what he had planned to say, "We're going tomorrow, and--"

"'_We're_ going'?" Jess sat up straight in his seat, dropping his fork onto his plate. Luke gave a nod and Jess quickly started to protest, "No Luke, _I_ am not going," he let out an irritated sigh and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the chair, "can't you just, I don't know, not get the law involved? I don't want to get her in trouble."

"Jess," Luke started, placing his elbows onto the table, "there isn't any other way." Luke took off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh before continuing, "She almost killed you but you didn't press charges, and I didn't stop you, but I'll be damned if I let you go back to her," his nephew made eye contact with him at that statement, "Jess, I have no rights to you, and unless we take this to court, you'll end up back with your mother."

The boy just sat there for a moment, taking in what his uncle had said, before picking up his fork again and stabbing down at a cut slice of pancake, "Fine," he replied, sitting himself up straight, "I'll go." He took a bit of his pancakes and stabbed down again at another. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to hurt his mother, but he didn't have a choice. His mother wasn't stable and he knew he wasn't safe with her. He didn't know what she would do at any given moment, and he lived his life constantly on guard around her. If he didn't pay attention to his actions, if he let himself slip and gave her attitude, he would get hell for it. With Luke he knew he'd be safe. He wouldn't have to worry about whether or not his mother would barge into his room with an iron, or decide to just kick him out for a week because she believed he wasn't her son. With Luke, there would be none of that, and things would finally be normal--well, as normal as they could be for him.

"Good," Luke replied, his lips curling up into a small smile at the sound of his victory. His nephew was such a stubborn boy, but he had actually been able to convince him. He wished he had been able to do that earlier when it came to the kid pressing charges against his mother, but that had been a whole different scenario. Jess didn't want to see his mother in jail, and Luke knew he really didn't want to see it either. His nephew still cared for his mother, even after all of the things she had done to him over the years. Luke didn't understand how that was even possible, but it was.

There was a knock on the door frame, and both Jess and Luke looked up to spot Lorelai Gilmore standing near the door, wearing a gentle smile. The bruise on Jess' face quickly caught her attention, and the marks on his neck soon drew her gaze down, but she keep her smile on. Those marks on his neck looked so vicious, like they had been given to him by some rabid monster, and she couldn't believe that monster had been his own _mother. _The little wide-eyed boy she remembered had grown up into a young man though, and even through the bruises she could see he had turned out to be quite the looker. She held in a giggle at this, remembering the conversation she had had earlier with her flustered daughter over her small crush on the little boy years ago.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," she started, taking a few steps into the apartment, "Caesar sent me up here to get you," she explained, setting her eyes on Luke, "the diner's getting a little hectic. Caesar can't handle all of the customers on his own, and Kirk is driving everybody up the wall, so Caesar is about to run out of the kitchen, frying pan in hand, and I'm pretty sure you don't want a murder scene down there."

Luke sent a small smile Lorelai's, giving her a nod, before setting his eyes on to his nephew, "Jess," he started, the kid looking up his way, "this is Lorelai. She's a good friend of mine."

"Hi," she greeted, giving Jess a small wave, "I don't know if you remember me, but you used to be friends with my daughter, Rory," Jess just stared at her with a blank expression. Lorelai widened her smile and tried to lighten up the mood, "and whatever evil things Luke has been telling you about me," she added, teasingly, "it's all lies."

"Huh," was all the boy gave in response, looking over at his uncle then back over to the weird cheery woman near the door. He remembered her slightly. He had almost recognized her, seeing a few features he thought seemed familiar to him. He remembered a much younger version of her though, but she wasn't really that old still. She and Luke were around the same age, he believed, but he wasn't so sure. All he knew was that she was around Liz's age when she had Rory, since the two of them were both born in the same year. Lorelai was the exact opposite of his mother, with her friendly smile and peppy attitude, she was such a contrast to his bitter and absolutely crazy mother. She had been so nice to him when he was little, he remembered how she would play house with Rory and him, eating fake sandwiches and running around them with a smile. Liz was never like that, Liz's idea of a game would be slapping him until he stopped his flinching whenever she came to touch him, wearing a devilish grin and letting out a laugh as he would always fail. They had played the malicious game numerous times when he was younger, and he hated it more than anything. He used to wish that he could have someone like Lorelai as his mother, someone as caring and _sane_ as she was.

Jess pushed his chair back and stood from his seat, wincing a little as a pain radiated through his chest--he had gotten up just a little too fast for his fractured ribs liking. He made his way over to the couch and grabbed up his pack of cigarettes, sliding out the tenth one, marking a half a pack as he lit the end and took his first drag.

Luke and Lorelai shared a quick glance before Luke rose from his chair and called out to the boy, "Jess," the kid's gaze fell his way, right as he unlatched the lock on the window and opened it, "I'm going to go down into the diner and help Caesar," he informed the kid, watching as he flicked the ash off the end of his stick, the ashes scattering as they flew down, "Finish eating and take some Advil to help with the pain, alright?"

Jess gave a curt nod as he settled back onto the couch and reached out to pull a box filled with books over his way. He slid the flaps open and searched for a moment before pulling out a worn copy of _A Farewell To Arms. _

"I'll be back up to check on you later," he told his nephew as the kid flipped the book open, placing the cigarette between his lips. He didn't give a response, and he quickly started up on his book, eyes following the words on the page with great concern and interest, not wanting to miss any single phrase.

Luke made his way over to Lorelai and the two shared a look of matching concern before heading out of the apartment and shutting the door behind them.

"He's so different," Lorelai commented as they made their way down the stairs, stopping as she landed on the bottom step right near the curtain.

"He's not that six year old boy anymore," Luke responded as he reached the bottom of the staircase shortly after his friend, meeting her there.

Lorelai's mind quickly flashed to the nasty looking bruises that covered the boy's neck, and those dulled eyes that she remembered being so bright years ago. What had Liz done to him? Over all of those years where no one had any clue where they were, any clue if Liz was stable or if Jess was even alive, what had she done to him to turn that happy-go-lucky little boy into that teenage boy who sat above them?

"What did she do to him?" Lorelai asked Luke, voice laced with worry and genuine concern. Those hand marks just kept flashing through her mind, clouding her thoughts and not allowing her to slip away from it.

"I wish I knew," Luke responded, stepping up towards the curtain, "but all I know is that I'm going to fix this," he pushed the curtain aside and glanced back, giving one last look towards Lorelai and adding with determination, "I'm never letting my sister near him _again_."

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Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you liked it!

Please take the time to review, I really love to hear what you all think; it makes my day!

I will try to update as soon as possible, as well as write another chapter for this, but I'm going to try to focus on my Charmed one this week.

Don't worry, though, the next chapter for this story is all typed out, I just need to edit it.

Thank you again for reading, and please review!

:)


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I think we all know that by now.**

Wow, it feels like _ages _since I've updated this story. I'm so sorry about that! I am trying to focus on my Charmed story, I have a definite plan for that story, but this one is still in the works. I do want to get on with writing it though, because I love this story. I have so many ideas for it, I just need to sort through them.

I thank you all for the lovely reviews, they inspired me to get out another chapter.

I hope you all like it, and please review! Feedback is appreciated greatly! :)

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A cold breeze slid its way across the lake, catching Jess in its path, causing the boy to let out an involuntary shiver. He had managed to get out of the apartment during the mid afternoon, when most of the town's residents had either given up on trying to get a glimpse at him or had gone off to work. A few customers had been down there when he emerged from the stairs, but most just gave him a studying look as he quickly slid out the door. Luke had been in the kitchen at the time, and Jess didn't feel like going to get the man to inform him of his venture outside; it would have given those few townsfolk more time to stare at him.

He took a drag from his cigarette while turning the page of his book, eyes following the words steadily. During his wanderings, he had found a somewhat secluded bridge a little ways off from the diner and quickly settled down there to read and smoke. It was away from all of the town's residents and allowed him to get the privacy and alone time he had been craving since he first woke up in the hospital. Being around all of those doctors and nurses ... all of those people had seen the scars and bruises and knew what she had done to him, and that was just too much for him. No one was supposed to know, this was supposed to be a secret he would take to the grave, but now it felt like the whole world knew. He was ashamed and embarrassed and just wished that the scars and marks on his body would disappear. He wished that she had never hurt him, he wished that no one had found out. No one was supposed to know, but now everyone did.

Jess exhaled a misty cloud of smoke, his eyes still scanning over the words on the same page he had been on moments ago. He just couldn't get his mother to escape his thoughts. It was like now that he was away from her, all he could do was think about her and what she had done to him. He thoughts went over every memory he had of her, traveling across each of the many cities and states they had settled in. He remembered the first move, when he was six, to Texas. He always complained about the heat, and would always ask her why they had to move so far away from Connecticut. She was struggling with keeping on the medication, and she always yelled about how she hated Luke, and how she couldn't believe her own _brother_ had tried to take her child away from her. The first time she hurt him was a few days after the move. He had kept whining about how hungry and hot he was, and Liz just snapped. She grabbed one of her thick fake leather belts and whipped him until he could no longer sob.

Jess took a frantic and long inhale, running a hand through his hair as he released the smoke from his lungs. He stared back down at the book, still opened to the same page, and let out a sigh. It was crazy, his whole life was just so _insane _right then. Things like this are not supposed to happen. His own mother was not supposed to try to kill him. Now, he was living in some crazy little small town with his unprepared uncle. It wasn't fair that he was thrown on him like this. It wasn't right to throw an abused teenager into the hands of an unprepared small town diner owner.

The faint tap of footsteps against wood caused Jess to snap out of his thoughts and look up towards the sound. He was met by the bright blue eyes of a brown haired girl who wore a soft, beautiful smile. She was wrapped up in a warm coat, arms hugging her torso due to the cold. The girl slowed her pace a little as she noticed the bruise on his cheek, the smile fading at the sight of the nasty, dull, purple and pink stain. He quickly turned his gaze off towards the lake, cigarette going straight to his lips.

The bruise had thrown Rory off for a moment, the nasty looking thing shocking her and reminding her that this was much more than just a new neighbor. He had a story--a terrible cruel past--that had thrown him into the arms of his uncle and this small town. He was no ordinary new resident, things were different for him. She made herself look past the bruise though, picking up on some of the familiar features she remembered about him from when he was a kid. His hair was still that dark, deep brown it had always been, but now it was longer and the old jelled look his younger self had had was gone. Those perfect brown orbs still were there to stare back at her, but she remembered them being so much more brighter than they were now. They had gone dull over the years, but they were still beautiful. She had to admit, Jess had grown up to be rather attractive, and she suddenly remembered why she had liked him so much when he was little. With a mixture of those lovely locks, those bright brown eyes, and that trademark smile (that she had yet to see) he was quite the looker.

The girl regained her smile and started up with a greeting, "Hey," she took a few steps towards him. Jess looked up her way as he took a drag, "You must be Jess," she continued, giving him the warmest smile she could.

"Good guess," he replied simply and dryly, tapping the ash off of the end of his cigarette.

"I'm Rory," she introduced herself happily, "I don't know if you remember me, we used to be friends when you lived here ten years ago."

Jess studied her for a moment, taking repetitive drags of his cigarette while doing so, before turning his gaze back towards the lake and responding, "I remember you."

After getting a better look at her, Jess had picked up on some of the key features that stuck out when he thought of the younger version of her. The eyes had been the real key to jog his memory, but her resemblance to her mother--who he had run into earlier--had helped a little bit as well.

Rory just stood for a moment, a sudden awkward silence filling up the air between them. Jess seemed rather content with it, throwing away his finished cigarette and quickly replacing it with a new stick as Rory stood awkwardly above him, looking off towards the lake, then to her shoes, then back at Jess again. Her eyes fell onto the book that sat open in his lap and she thanked God for placing that object there and giving her something to break the long palpable silence with.

"What are you reading?" she asked, kneeling down next to the boy to try and get a good glimpse at the book.

Jess quickly dog-eared the page and shut it, flipping it over to the cover so that he could show her the title, "Oliver Twist," he told her as he watched her examine the old, worn cover. He had had this book for a long time--he first got it at ten, he believed--and it had quickly turned into one of his favorites. It had been stuffed into many back pockets and trampled on in many old cars, but the pages were still intact and he would make sure it would stay that way. It had been one of the books he had saved from his mother and the fate of being burned to a crisp in the fire back in Omaha.

A bright smile had appeared on Rory's face and she adjusted herself on the bridge, taking a seat next to Jess and letting her feet dangle off of the edge like his, "That's one of my favorites," she informed him. Jess' eyes still sat on the book, his hand reaching up towards his mouth to pull out the cigarette and let a cloud of smoke escape his lungs.

"I remember when we were little we both used to go to the library and check out hundreds of books from the kid's section," she spoke up, thinking back fondly at the memory, "my mom would take us, or even sometimes Luke, and we would run off towards the kid's section the second we were through the door," she let out a small giggle, "we'd always fight over who got to read them out loud. We'd be screaming all the way home, and whenever Luke was there he'd always just stand awkwardly by wondering what the hell he should do, looking completely embarrassed that he couldn't control two little kids"

She looked up towards Jess and spotted a small smile forming on his lips, the cigarette sitting in between them. She could tell he remembered, and that caused her smile to grow even wider. She was happy that he still remembered those memories of his childhood, because from the look of that bruise, she didn't expect he had much good ones past six years old.

Jess had almost forgotten about those trips to library. A lot of his good memories seemed to be pushed aside by the bad ones. He hated how the mind always seemed to remember the more traumatic events in life than the happy ones. The library trips with Luke and Rory had always been fun and was a great example of how awkward Luke was when it came to dealing with kids. He and Rory would be screaming and berating each other at the top of their lungs and all Luke could do was come up with the weak, _"You both can read it,"_ answer, which would cause Rory to roll her big blue eyes and exclaim that, _"you can't read the same book twice in a row!" _The screaming would continue, and Luke would look completely clueless and embarrassed as they walked their way back to his grandfather's house.

"I take it you still like to read, then?" Jess asked, looking up towards the girl as he took a drag.

Her smile beamed on as she replied, "Of course," she pushed a strand of hair out of her face as she continued, "I'm reading_ Choke_ right now; I just bought it a few days ago."

Jess looked off towards the lake as he took another drag, "That's a good book," he told her, staring down at the book in his lap, "I've read it over twenty times," Rory went a little wide-eyed at the hefty amount, "it's one of Chuck Palahniuk's best, next to _Fight Club_."

Rory was about to respond, lifting her gaze over towards her old friend, but stopped herself once she caught glimpse of the mark on his neck that was peering up over the collar of his jacket. The skin was dark and bruised over, the mark wrapping around his neck and ending near the back. That had hit her far worse than the bruise had, and for some reason she couldn't help but stare, knowing full well what had caused it and who it was from. His mother had had her hands right there when she was trying to steal the life from him, she had held on so tight, tried so hard to kill him, that her fingers had left imprints on his smooth skin. That was a horrific thought; your own _mother_ trying to kill you.

Jess had caught her staring and sent a glare her way, "You want to see them too?" he asked, hands going up to the collar of his jacket, "Fine," he unzipped his jacket and pulled down the collar, "pretty, huh?" he asked her, venomously.

He was sick of this town and their nosy little eyes, all trying to get a glimpse at him and those lovely bruises that weighed on his neck like a collar; a constant reminder of who held control over him. He would never lose his connection to his mother, he would never forget all of the things she'd done to him, because they were all scattered over his body to remind him.

Rory looked away and mumbled a quick, but sincere, apology, "I'm sorry," she listened for the sound of a zipping coat, waiting for him to cover up the marks again, "I just caught a glimpse."

"Would you like to take a picture, like the doctor's wanted to do, so you can show the whole town?" he inquired with anger, "They all seem so interested in me, and this would save them all of the hassle of trying to spot me and get a glimpse."

"I know the town's nosy," she stated, her eyes still off towards the ground, "but it's not their business, and they all know it. You don't have to show them anything, you don't have to _tell _them anything, because it's personal and private, and they will just have to deal with it." Rory truly believed everything she was saying, and she really hoped Jess would hide those bruises again, she felt like she was invading his privacy seeing them, and she didn't like to be nosy like the rest of the town. True, she had been at the diner wanting to get a glimpse at him, but just of_ him_, not of the bruises.

She heard the quick zip of Jess' zipper and looked back over at him after she was sure he had adjusted the collar of his jacket enough that the marks were out of sight. Jess took a puff of his cigarette and looked down towards the water, "Sorry," he apologized, "I just don't like all of these people in my business."

"I know," she replied, "the town is just a little too nosy sometimes, about everything." She watched as he exhaled the smoke from his lungs after an inhale, his eyes shutting for a quick moment, taking in the calming feeling he was receiving from the simple movement, "It's a small town, you know. They thrive on gossip and the hope of a new neighbor that they can spy on."

Jess' lips curled up into a small smile and he flicked his cigarette off onto the bridge, "You seem different than the rest." He pointed out, looking up her way with those light brown eyes. He had noted that she didn't seem as nosy as the rest, not trying to stare at him or his bruises. Her and his uncle were alike in that way; they tried to mind their own business and keep their curiosity to themselves. Luke had never once asked him about the abuse so far, like he had expected, and he was thankful for that. He liked his uncle, and he was happy that the man was still practically the same man he had used to be all those years ago. Though he was awkward with the whole parenting thing, he beat Liz tenfold.

Speaking of his lumberjack uncle, he had a feeling that Luke had caught on to his vanishing act and would be starting to form a search party. The sun had neared the horizon line now, filling the sky with swirls of orange and pink, and he'd been gone for hours. His uncle seemed a little ... _overprotective_ right now--the diner owner had made his way up the stairs about twenty times that morning to check up on him as much as he could--and Jess thought he'd ease the man's worries by coming home now instead of staying out on his own for a few more hours. His usual wandering in New York sometimes would last till the early morning of a new day, but he wasn't in New York anymore, and he wasn't living with his crazy mother either.

Jess grabbed his book off of his lap and stood up, stuffing it back into it's rightful place in his back pocket before looking back down at Rory, "I've got to get back to the diner," he explained, holding out a hand for her to help her up.

She accepted with a smile and grasped it gently, letting Jess lift her up and back to standing.

"I hope to talk to you again soon," she spoke up as she brushed the wrinkles out of her jeans and stuffed her hands in her pockets, "I'd like to be friends again; we were really close when we were little."

"Yeah," Jess nodded and smiled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, letting out an involuntary shiver as a cold wind blew against them.

She gave him one last wave goodbye before turning to head in the opposite direction, trekking her way off the bridge and out of his line of sight. He turned and started his way to the diner, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

He wouldn't show it, but he was actually rather pleased with meeting Rory again. She had grown up to be quite attractive, he had to admit, and she still seemed to be rather sane (unlike most of the town) and enjoyed some of the old things they used to. He hadn't really been thinking about meeting up with old friends and starting a _normal _life again in Stars Hollow--his mind had been other places lately--but he liked the idea. Normal hadn't been a word in his vocabulary in ages, and he really liked the new addition.

He turned the corner onto town square, where residents made their way around wearing grins and seeming to have no worries or cares. They seemed so content taking their stroll down the sidewalks of the center of town, making their way to their homes or to one of the stores. They lived lives that involved simplicity and happiness, working a nine to five job or attending school, then heading on home to their nice, happy little families to have a home-cooked meal and tell each other about their normal, perfect days. That was what normal was to these people, that was what normal was for most people, but as he walked, catching onto the curious glances of strangers who didn't recognize him but at the same time did--realizing that he was indeed the nephew of the diner owner and the son of the infamous crazy Liz--he didn't know if he could fit into this version of normal. His whole life had been so abnormal that he didn't know if it was even possible. He couldn't ever fit in, not after all that he had been through. He'd always be this screwed up kid, he'd always be the freak. Those curious glances would always be sent his way, he'd never be looked at like another random passerby on the street. He would always be seen as different, he would always stand out.

And he knew, as hard as he tried, he would never be _normal_.

Jess caught a glimpse of his stocky uncle barging his way out of the diner as he started his way across the park. Luke looked infuriated, an expression filled with worry and anger creasing his features. His steps were long and hard as he made his way over to the boy, each foot producing a loud and sturdy slam as the sole collided with the pavement.

People turned their gaze the diner owners way and watched as he met his nephew right in front of the gazebo. Jess looked up into his eyes for a brief second as Luke crossed his arms before quickly diverting his gaze after catching onto the rage that was shining out of them. His bruised neck seemed to let off a tingle and remind him of what happened last time he made someone angry, and the boy quickly zipped up his jacket more. He decided to meet his uncle's gaze again, expression tough and challenging. He would not show his fear. A part of him kept reminding him that Luke would never hurt him like Liz, but another part of him forced him to keep on his mask. It was safer that way.

"Where the _hell _have you been, Jess?" Luke started off with a harshness to his voice. When Jess didn't open his mouth to speak, just kept staring him down, Luke went on, "You can't just run off without telling me where you're going!" he raised his arms in the air, "I need to know where you are Jess."

"I didn't have to tell Liz where I was going," Jess defended, his eyes traveling away from Luke's as he saw his anger rise a little. He spotted the few townsfolk that had stopped to watch them, sitting down on a bench or slowing their speed to keep their curious eyes casted on the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Well, you're not living with Liz anymore, Jess!" Luke told the boy, adding a silent _'thank God_' to the end of that sentence in his head.

Jess' eyes travelled back over to the audience that he and Luke had before quickly looking back towards his uncle.

"You told me to go out to smoke," he kept his tone hushed, but harsh, as his eyes quickly travelled back to his uncle for a brief moment before darting over to a man who was peering over a newspaper, watching them, "And you're making a scene Luke. Can we _please_ do this inside?"

Luke's gaze followed Jess' and he suddenly spotted the audience that seemed to have taken up watching them bicker. The anger in his eyes suddenly died down a little and a hint of annoyance spread across his already creased features. When he looked back towards his nephew, the boy's eyes practically pleading with him to get them both inside, he gave a nod.

"Yeah," he told the boy, stepping aside and letting his nephew start ahead of him, arm instantly going to pat the boy's back in a sort of protective motion. Jess flinched away at impact, sending a look his uncle's way that showed a bit of annoyance, trying to remind him yet again that he did _not_ like to be touched.

They started their way across the street and Jess stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning over the passerby's and scenery once again. He was hoping to get inside without any interruptions and with each step forward and closer to the diner door he felt more and more at ease. Then he spotted her. The plump, flamboyant, woman with an assortment of necklaces and bracelets, who strode her way towards them with an elegance and a look of pity. Luke had caught sight of her striding her way towards them shortly after Jess, and the two shared a look.

"Oh Luke!" Miss Patty cried as she made her way up to the two Danes'. Jess' eyes quickly darted to the diner door, which was only a few more long strides away. He was contemplating making a run for it, leaving Luke out there to deal with the flamboyant lady, but was suddenly discouraged when the plump woman stepped in front of his view of the door, blocking his only means of escape.

Her eyes quickly fell right onto the boy, and Jess quickly caught onto the sorrow that seemed to radiate off her eyes. She was staring at his bruised cheek as she let out an "Oh my." Her eyes quickly darted down to his neck, knowing where the real evidence of Liz's crazy had been marked.

"Jess," Luke started up in a rush, noticing Patty's gaze had fallen to his nephew's covered neck. Jess looked over at him, "This is Miss Patty," he introduced, motioning over to her with his hand, "she runs the dance studio across the street."

"Huh," Jess turned and gave a nod at that, his eyes traveling back over to the woman.

"You poor boy!" She exclaimed with such pity, "What happened to you was just _so_ terrible, sweetie!"

She opened her arms up, ready to embrace him, and took a step forward right as Jess took a swift step back.

"Patty," Luke started, "we really need to go. I've got to get back to work and--"

"Oh dear, alright," she let her arms rest again and Luke caught onto his nephew's faint sigh of relief.

Miss Patty looked back at the young teenage boy once more, eyes filled with pity, before adding, "You turned out to be quite handsome, sweetie." She gave Jess a smile before turning and starting her way back across the street, where Luke spotted Babette waiting eagerly on a bench, ready to hear about everything that happened during their brief encounter.

When the two safely got into Luke's diner, Jess swiftly made his way through the diner and up the stairs, trying his hardest to ignore all of the stares he received on the way.

He really hated Stars Hollow, he didn't remember hating it this much before, but that day had really showed him how much he should hate it. Everyone was just so freaking nosy, they couldn't keep to themselves. He really missed New York. No one was like that there--except for the few social workers he'd encountered--most people just minded their own business and if they saw you with a bruise, they didn't question it or start bothering you, they just pretended like they hadn't seen it at all. He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but a part of him really wanted to be back with Liz. He could have lived with that for a few more years, he would have survived. It was easier to deal with being abused than have everyone know you were. It was embarrassing and he was ashamed of it. Everybody knowing just made things so much unbearable.

Jess slid into the apartment and went straight towards the couch, pulling out his book from his back pocket along the way. As he plopped down and opened the book to his dog-eared page, Luke made his way in and shut the door.

"Jess," Luke started, making his way to his nephew and sitting down beside him, "I think we need to establish some rules."

Jess' gaze fell onto his uncle and he let the book shut with his thumb in between the page. The kid didn't speak a word of protest or praise to Luke's idea, instead he just watched and waited for his uncle to go on with curiosity.

"First," he started, "you need to tell me where you go when you go out." Jess rolled his eyes at this, and Luke continued with his reasoning, "I need to know where you are, Jess. You're my responsibility."

"I didn't have to be," Jess responded, fingers taking up to fiddling with a cigarette he had pulled out from his pocket, a craving suddenly hitting him at the mention of rules.

It was Luke's turn to roll his eyes now. If he hadn't taken Jess back in that kid would have probably ended up dead by his mother's hands. He wasn't going to fight with Jess about that now, and besides, the whole subject was still rather touchy and Luke didn't really like to think about it.

"Well, you are, so you have to tell me where you're going," he told the kid, watching as the cigarette shot up to his lips and the boy went to grab his lighter.

"Here's another rule," Luke started quickly, catching Jess' gaze as he grabbed the stick out of his mouth, "you smoke outside if you're going to smoke, but we are going to try to stop this; it's bad for you."

Jess crossed his arms and let out an annoyed huff as he rested his back against the back of the chair and slouched in his seat, "I don't need to hear a lecture on the harmful consequences of smoking, Uncle Luke."

"I'll save it for another time then," he told his nephew as he slammed his hands against his thighs and stood up, "now, I've got to get back to work; the dinner rush will be starting soon. I'll bring us up some food soon, and you will eat it _all_ this time," Luke ordered. He had found his nephew's half-eaten pancakes laying right on the table, seeming to be untouched after he had left to go back to work.

"I wasn't hungry," Jess said, defending his earlier actions as he opened his book back to the page he was on.

"Well, be hungry when I get back up here," Luke told the boy before turning and starting his way to the door and swiftly exiting to make his way down the stairs and back to work, leaving Jess to his reading and thoughts.

He had rules now, that was just so ... _weird_. Rules were different for Jess. He had never really had them before--well, other than the few he made up on his own like don't get Liz mad after a whiskey binge or don't give her attitude or the voices will cue in. Those had been made in order to survive though, and a parental figure had never give him rules before. These rules were just so ..._ normal._ It was somewhat of a comfort, having rules, but then again, somewhat of an annoyance. He had to follow said rules, and he wasn't one for following rules like that. He would not give up smoking and he still didn't feel the need to tell his uncle where he was going when he left. It was a small town for Pete's sake, what was going to happen to him? He'd get hugged to death by the plump dancing instructor?

Though he thought the rules were dumb, they still had that odd comfort to them. Someone actually_ cared_ where he was going when he wandered out for a bit. That was a weird feeling, something he'd have to get used to.

Could he, though?

Could he actually start living like a normal teenager, with rules and normal worries and cares? Could he really have the type of life that everybody else had, where he would just be an average kid living with his uncle who owned a diner?

The answer was simple:

No.

* * *

Thank you all for reading and hopefully reviewing!

I will try to work on both this story and the Charmed one, but it may be hard.

In the meantime: please review! They do help me to force myself to write more instead of go play video games, haha.

Thanks again for reading, and i hope you all liked the chapter!

:)


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as always!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews, I appreciate it so much!

I hope the wait wasn't too long, and if it was, sorry! I was trying to complete my Charmed story chapter (which will go up right after this) so I could update both at the same time.

I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!And _please _review!

:)

_

* * *

It was always freezing in Omaha, and that day was no exception. An 11-year-old Jess sat outside of the trailer that he called home that month, arms wrapped tightly around him, trying to keep warm. Liz had thrown him outside in a fit of rage, telling him that if he didn't like it there then he could go stay out there and learn what it was like without someone taking care of him. Jess found that laughable. Liz didn't take care of him in the first place, so all he was really learning was how to get pneumonia. His left hand felt awkward and weighed down by the plaster cast that covered it practically up to the elbow._ _That had been Liz's doing. They had gotten into a fight a few weeks ago when the voices were screaming out lies to his mother. She had started smacking him and pushing him and he had landed on his arm wrong. CPS got suspicious so Liz and Jess rushed out of town later that night. That's how they ended up in Omaha. Three hours of driving in a cramped sedan, no clue where they where going to live, until Liz pulled into a trailer park and decided to make it their new home._

_A rush of cold air whipped by, causing Jess to hug himself tighter. It was -12 degrees outside and Liz had thrown him out without a coat. At first he had banged on the door with his uninjured hand, calling for her to just _please_ let him in, proclaiming that he had lied when he said he didn't like living with her, that he would never say it again if she would just _let_ him back inside. It hadn't worked though, and Liz had ignored him. The TV was quickly turned on loud and Jess guessed she had grabbed a bottle of whiskey and settled on the couch._

_Jess turned to look at the door, the cold wind tempting him to start banging again. Maybe if he annoyed her enough she'd let him back in. Of course he'd have to take a few smacks, but he could handle that. He wouldn't end up dead in there like he would if he stayed out here._

"_Jess?" _

_The call caused Jess to turn his head and look back in front of him. Jenny, the woman who lived in the trailer next to theirs, was standing a few feet away from him, clinging onto a brown bag stuffed full of groceries. The food reminded Jess that he hadn't eaten since earlier that afternoon, and he was hungry. The sun had made its way below the horizon line about a half and hour ago, so Jess assumed it was around five or six. He couldn't really tell, but all he knew was he wanted to just get inside, where it was warm, and eat something._

"_What are you doing out here?" Jenny asked as a cold wind started to howl, blowing her straight brown hair every which way. She took a few steps closer, "And why don't you have a coat?!" The boy was wearing a thin cotton shirt and his face had turned a small shade of red from the bitter cold._

"_I'm in trouble with my mom again," Jess explained with a shrug, eyes wandering down to his plastered hand. He hugged his body tighter as a fierce wind blew against his side._

_Jenny was instantly infuriated. Jess always seemed to be in trouble with his mother. Ever since the two had moved in a few weeks ago there was always some form of yelling coming from that trailer daily. That woman was a mess. Whenever she saw Liz her hair was messy and uncombed, her skinny body wrapped in some torn up robe. Her eyes were always bloodshot and you could tell she was taking something, maybe cocaine? Jenny wasn't sure. All she knew about Liz was that she worked at a strip club downtown and she was around twenty-seven. She treated her child like crap and Jenny was sure there was something mentally wrong with the woman. She just didn't seem like she was fully there._

"_So she locked you out?" Jenny asked, eyes falling on the old, metal trailer behind them and the window that peered inside. She could see flashes of color that dulled and brightened every few seconds from the TV. She didn't understand how a mother could treat her own child like this. She was just sitting in there, watching television, while her young son sat out in the freezing cold. _

_Jess gave a nod as a response to her question and looked up her way, "I was being bad though, so I deserved it." He felt the need to defend his mother. He knew what Jenny was thinking: that his mother was a terrible person, but that wasn't true. The voices made her like this, it wasn't her fault. That's why he didn't take it personally. His mother loved him, he knew that, but sometimes the voices just got in the way of that._

"_No, you don't, Jess," Jenny told the young boy, kneeling down to his eye level. His big brown eyes stared straight into hers for a moment. They looked like they belonged to a child that was aged well beyond eleven, dull orbs looking so worn and tired at his young age. They didn't belong on the face of a child, those eyes should be bright and lively._

_The door behind them suddenly slammed open, banging hard again the wall. _

"_Jess!" Liz's raspy voice practically cracked as she screamed his name, voice filled with anger._

_The young boy snapped his head back quick, eyes going wide as he spotted his mother. Her features were contorted with anger, and her eyes were sending a rage filled glare his way. There was a half empty whiskey bottle in her hand, and she gripped it tightly, her knuckles white. She reached out and grabbed his uninjured arm, forcing him up swiftly and violently. _

_Liz brought her son close to her and ordered "Get in there!" She thrust the boy into the trailer and watched as he stumbled, almost tripping on his own feet, before he turned and looked her way._

_Liz was sending that same glare that had been directed towards him only moments ago to Jenny, but this time filled with so much more hate. His mother had only sent looks like that his way when the voices were chattering nonstop in her head, filling it completely with lies about how he was a naughty boy and needed to be punished. They were sometimes telling the truth though, he did do bad things. He could be a very bad boy, like he was being now. He shouldn't have talked to Jenny, his mother didn't like her very much. He was such a stupid little bastard, just like Liz called him._

"_You don't talk to my kid, you got it?!" Liz yelled, pointing a stiff and stern finger Jenny's way._

_Jenny looked Jess' way, spotting the boy standing slightly behind his mother, watching the scene with fear-filled eyes. He was so scared of his mother, she could tell that. No kid should be afraid of their mother, and Jess did not deserve to be treated the way he was. From the few times she had talked with him, she had found out what an amazing kid he was. He loved to read, and was reading books like _Moby Dick _and_ Oliver Twist _at only eleven years old. He was very intelligent and would always be telling her weird facts that she never even knew of, all while wearing this shy little smile on his face. He had a little sense of humor and seemed to resort to sarcasm occasionally, which she found rather amusing. Why didn't Liz see this? Why did she treat him so terribly when she had a kid like that?_

_Jenny's eyes met Liz's and she sent a challenging glare her way, "You have no right to treat him the way you do!" Her voice was filled with the same anger that Liz's had been filled with, and Jess had never seen Jenny so mad before._

"_I can treat him anyway I want to!" Liz retorted, voice scratchy and loud, "He's _my _kid! Now, leave us the hell alone!" Liz stepped back and slammed the door as hard as she could. She took a swig of whiskey before turning Jess' way, dull eyes filled with anger._

"_I told you not to talk to her, Jess!" she exclaimed, raising her hands up and throwing the bottle his way. Jess quickly ducked and covered his head, causing the bottle to collide into a wall some ways behind him and break into pieces, the whiskey dripping down the white paint, staining it with trails of brown._

"_I'm sorry mom," he apologized with sincerity. He really liked Jenny, and he knew he shouldn't have been talking to her, but she was so nice to him. He wished Jenny was his mom instead of Liz, she didn't scare him or hurt him. No, he didn't mean that, he loved his mom, he really did!_

"_Sorry isn't going to cut it, Jess," she screamed, charging her way towards him, hand raised. Jess quickly covered his head with his arms, hoping to block her hit, but instead felt her hand grip the plaster on his injured arm as well as the cold, bare arm and shake him, "Mommy tries to help you, she tries to teach you a lesson, but you just won't listen to her!" she pushed him into the wall and looked around the room, spotting her old leather belt lying on the ground. She quickly grabbed it and gripped it tightly, "Maybe you'll start listening to mommy now!" She raised the belt up in the air, the leather whipping back in the air, and Jess' eyes widened._

"No!" Jess let out a loud and horrific scream as his eyes shot open and he sat up in bed, "No, stop!" His voice cracked at the deafening loudness of his scream, hurting his throat as it escaped his lungs. He kicked off his sheets and backed up again the frame.

Luke had shot up in bed, eyes wide and heart racing, when he heard the horrific scream. Luke instantly knew who it had been and within seconds the sheets were ripped off his legs and his bare feet were slapping against the cold floor as he made his way over to his nephew swiftly. In the dim moonlight Luke could see Jess' wide, fear stricken eyes clearly. It was equally new and frightening--Jess always looked so numb and seeing his whole face shine off fear was so rare and odd. Sweat covered his face and his breathing was quick and panicked, his chest rising up and down frantically as his eyes darted around the room.

"Jess," he placed his hands onto the boy's stiff shoulders, causing Jess' gaze to fall his way, "it's alright. It was just a dream."

Jess started shuffling back as his hands shot up and started prying Luke's off of his shoulders, "Stop it, Luke!" His gaze met Luke's, the fear that had been there moments ago turning to sheer panic, "Stop touching me!"

Jess managed to pry Luke off of him, the panic that had fallen over him quickly disappearing as Luke's hands flew back, hovering in the air with nothing to do. An awkward feeling feel over the two as Luke just watched his nephew run a shaking hand through his hair and let his breathing regain some normalcy.

"Jess."

The call caused his brown eyes to snap back up towards Luke, this time with no fear or panic. Just nothing. His eyes were blank, expression matching. He had closed his emotions off again, and now Luke was staring at his nephew the way he usually saw him--with his defenses high. He honesty didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do, because whenever he tried to comfort Jess it didn't work. He couldn't lay a comforting hand on his shoulder or even reach out towards him without his nephew instantly flinching back and reminding him of his dislike to touch. What else could he do? Words didn't work. Jess didn't believe things were going to be alright, hell, Luke even knew it too. Liz had tried to kill his nephew, she hurt him when she was supposed to be taking care of him. Things weren't going to be alright, and nothing he could say or do would make that change. It made him feel so helpless; he wanted to help his nephew so bad, but the kid wouldn't even let him touch him.

"I--I just--" Jess started, stuttering out the syllables before swinging his feet over the side of the bed and standing up, "I need some air." He rushed over to the door, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter that sat on his dresser along the way, before grabbing his coat and swiftly sliding out the door.

Luke listened to each step as his nephew made his way down the stairs and into the diner, where swiftly the faint sound of a bell could be heard ringing as Jess shut the door behind him.

Jess was outside smoking, mind still lingering on whatever horrific dream he had just had, while all he did was just sit in the apartment, clueless on how to help. He had never felt so bad before, he had never felt like he was so useless. There was nothing he could do when all he wanted to do was something--_anything_--that would make his nephew feel a little bit better. This wasn't fair to Jess, Liz should have never done this to him. Jess was a wreck and it was all his mother's fault. No, not just Liz's. He could have done something, he could have fought harder or tried to find them instead of sitting in his little diner making burgers while Jess was living with that nut case. He could have helped his sister, he could have gotten her into a hospital and forced her to stay on her medication. He loved both his sister and nephew, but that just didn't seem to be enough. He should have done something sooner, before Liz had beat down his nephew so much that it seemed almost impossible for him to get back up.

* * *

"Jess ... mother ... years ..."

Luke was talking, key phrases in choppy sentences was all Jess could hear as he stared out at the tall skyscrapers, each lined with windows to the very top. He was trying to avoid listening, trying to pretend he wasn't there. He didn't want to be a part of this conversation. Skyscrapers were nice. He liked skyscrapers. He wondered how many windows each one had. Maybe he'd count. It was such a contrast to what he'd been seeing in Stars Hollow, all of these tall buildings. He missed the city, and though this wasn't exactly New York, it still was the same in some aspects. Hartford didn't have nosy small town neighbors who send you curious stares and whisper about you when you pass by. Instead, it had lawyers, like the chubby, graying man who sat in front of him and Luke. He didn't know which one was worse; the neighbors or the lawyer ... the neighbors, no doubt.

"Court ... custody ... police reports ..."

The lawyer's voice now. He wished he was outside, he wished he could just run out the door and never come back. He wished he could pretend that none of this had happened. Maybe he should run away. That would solve his problems. If no one knew where he was, then no one could try to fight for the custody of him. He would no longer be Luke's problem--which he felt terribly bad about, it just wasn't fair to his uncle--and he would never have to be beat by his mother again. He would be able to survive out there. If he had survived Liz, he could survive anything. He would just survive off of scraps of food from dumpster (he had done it before) and sleep in old buildings or in the hallway of an apartment building (he'd done that too). He knew how to survive out there, Liz had forced him to learn it well. He could wash in the public library bathroom or sneak into a YMCA and get himself a quick shower. It would be okay, he'd end up okay. He had to end up okay, because it wouldn't be fair if he didn't. He had taken 10 years of Liz's crazy antics, was almost killed by her, so he deserved to end up okay. But life wasn't fair, life was just bullshit.

"Liz ... schizophrenic ... medication ... help ... abuse ..."

Luke was talking again, and the mention of abuse caused Jess to stiffen up. They were on to that already. Great. He was starting to fall more into the conversation, starting to come back from his daydreaming and starting to feel more like he was trapped inside the office of some lawyer. A lawyer who would lead his mother to hate him even more. No, he needed to stop thinking about what was happening right then. He needed to drift off again. Count the windows, watch the cars, think about another way to get out of this whole situation. He could pretend he was crazy--he felt like something was mentally wrong with him already, he could just go off of that. But the thought of being institutionalized just didn't appeal to him. Liz had told him about it once. She said it was terrible and frightening and you were always drugged up. He didn't like the idea of being some numb, drugged up shell of a person. Maybe faking insanity was a stupid idea. Running away was the best option, but it honesty didn't appeal to him either.

Dammit, his life really sucked.

"Jess ... "

He didn't even know if it was even worth it. Life was shit, and it wouldn't be getting any better for him. Liz had turned him into a freak, an outcast. He was different, and he could never be normal like anyone else. He would never get over what she did to him.

"Jess ... "

His eyes snapped over from the window to his uncle, who had been the one repeating his name. He was brought back from his daydreaming and now he could feel the stiff chair he sat in, could feel the heater blowing near his feet, could see the books that lined a shelf, the degree that hung on the wall behind the lawyer's desk, flaunting off the fact that he went to Harvard.

"Your uncle told me you didn't consent to a physical examination while you were in the hospital," the lawyer (whose name Jess had forgotten rather quickly) spoke up, causing Jess' gaze to drift his way. He paused, waiting for Jess to give some sort of reply, but was met by silence and the boy's dull, blank gaze. He adjusted himself awkwardly in his seat before continuing.

"We need some sort of evidence that proves your mother really abused you," Luke watched his nephew carefully, trying to pick up some sort of emotion or clue that would tell him if Jess was even listening at all, but got nothing. Jess just kept his numb gaze focused on their lawyer. "Along with a testimony, pictures of what she did to you would help us make sure your uncle will get full custody."

"Jess," Luke cut in, causing the boy to turn his head and look his way. There was still no emotion on his face, and those eyes just kept that dull stare. It was frightening at times to see Jess like that. He just looked so _dead_, like he'd given up on feeling anything at all because feelings just only made things worse, "You don't have to do this, no one is forcing you, but if you decided to get a physical examination, it would really help."

Jess just sat for a moment, gaze drifting back over to their lawyer before landing right back on Luke. Everything suddenly felt so much more real. They were talking to a lawyer about getting him away from his mother. _For good_. Only a few days ago he was still living with her, watching her stare up at stained ceilings and snort lines of cocaine. A few days ago his life was the normal life he had been leading for ten years and now everything had been turned upside down. His uncle--who he had not seen for ten years--was sitting right next to him, he was in Hartford, not New York, and his mother had almost succeeded at killing him. And everyone _knew it_. They all knew what she had done to him, and not just a few nights ago. His secret was out in the open, where it should have never wandered, polluting the air around him. Oh God, they were with a lawyer, they were going to go to court, he was going to have to tell a whole courtroom about what his mother had done to him. He couldn't handle it.

Jess suddenly stood up and started his way to the door. "I need a smoke," he informed the two men on his way to the door, expression still blank and eyes never wandering back over to look towards either one of them. He exited the room, leaving the door open behind him, and swiftly made his way outside. Within seconds, he had a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips and was fiddling with his lighter.

"Jess!" Luke called, pushing his way through the door and out to the bustling streets. He watched as his nephew slightly turned his head to look back his way before turning his gaze right back onto his cigarette and holding up his lit lighter to the end of the stick, "You don't have to do it, I wouldn't ever force you to do it Jess."

The boy gave a nod as he took his first drag, eyes wandering off towards the street and the tall buildings in front of them, "I know that." He told his uncle, turning his gaze towards the ground as he stared at his cigarette that dangled between two fingers, "I just can't do this whole thing. I don't want to get her in trouble."

"Jess--" Luke started, but was cut off by his nephew before he could get another syllable out.

"There has to be another way," his brown eyes shot up towards Luke. The cigarette was back between his lips quickly and the boy took a quick drag before taking it back out. His eyes wandered right back over to Luke, this time showing an emotion Luke thought he'd never see, "_Please_, Luke," his eyes and voice both betrayed the boy, and Luke could see and hear how desperate the kid's plea was, "Find another way ... I--I don't want her to hate me anymore."

The tone in Jess' voice when he said that last sentence really struck Luke. All that kid wanted was for his mother to love him, just like a mother should, and this whole thing was tearing him apart. He wanted to get away, but he didn't want her to hate him for it. He was so reluctant to do anything that would save himself from having to end up back with her because he didn't want to hurt her in the process.

"I'll try," Luke agreed, watching as Jess took another drag, his eyes wandering off towards the street once again. He watched as the cars all came to a halt, one after the other, as the light near the intersection turning red. He was thankful Luke had said that, he didn't want to get the law involved in this. He didn't want anything to be stamped on his mother's record that would make her look bad. He didn't want to see her go to jail. She already had a hard enough time finding a job and living as it was, that would just make it worse. She would never forgive him if he did that to her.

"If there's no other choice though," Jess started up, looking over towards Luke, "I'll let them take the pictures." As much as he hated the idea of his scarred and bruised body being documented for others to see in photographs, he'd let them do it. He knew he needed to get away from her, and they didn't really have a case without his testimony or the pictures. If there was no other choice, then he'd have to do it. He knew he couldn't go back with her after what she had done to him.

"Alright," Luke nodded and watched as Jess took another drag, his eyes wandering back over to the street. The light had changed and the cars were rolling by again, turning or heading straight across the intersection. People walked by them, not stopping to take a second glance their way. They minded their own business, and Jess liked that.

As much as Jess wanted to stay with his uncle he didn't know if he could handle living in a town where everyone knew what had happened. They knew his mother, they remembered him from when he was younger. How was he supposed to make a fresh start and move past everything if everyone around him knew about it? He wanted to stay where they were. He could get used to living in Hartford. He had moved around so much he could get used to living anywhere. Though it wasn't his beloved New York, he could manage, he could survive. The city just suited him better, but looking over towards his uncle--dressed in flannel and jeans, a baseball cap covering his head--he knew the city didn't suit him. It wouldn't be fair to make Luke live here because of his greedy need to. He didn't really get to chose where he was going to live, he never had the choice before, so why was he starting to think so now. He couldn't ask his uncle to make a move to a city like this. His whole life was in Stars Hollow, just like Jess' life had been back in New York ... And Nebraska ... And Texas ... And California. His life was everywhere. He had never had a permanent place to call home. Parts of him were scattered all of the country, bits of his nomadic childhood stained throughout. He could deal with another move, another place to call his temporary home, but Luke already had one.

"Come on," Luke spoke up, causing Jess' gaze to fall over towards the stocky man, "Let's get back to Stars Hollow."

Jess was hesitant for a moment, sucking on the cigarette that sat between his lips as his eyes wandered back to his surroundings. He looked up towards the peaks of the tall buildings, scanned over the unfamiliar woman who passed by, the homeless man that sat across the street, begging for spare change, the passing cars and the buildings that lined the streets. He didn't want to leave, this was where he belonged, but he had no choice. He belonged in Stars Hollow now. He lived in a small town where everyone knew his name and his past. Like every move he had ever made in his life, he had no say or choice in it, he was blindly obedient and followed without protest. He was just a kid, he didn't get the choice. But living with Luke wasn't like living with Liz, and the next stop on their never-ending trip wouldn't still leave him in danger and would be permanent. He somewhat accepted that security; that he would be safe and wouldn't be uprooted quickly, but he wanted the anonymity of the city. He didn't know how much he could take from the nosy residents of Stars Hollow.

Jess finally gave a silent nod in response and began to follow his uncle to his car, just like he had done with Liz so many times before. No protests, no reluctance. He just followed.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thank you all so much for reading! Hopefully you review as well! :)

I will try to get the next chapter up soon (it needs to be written first, of course)!

Well, thanks again for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

:)


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Wow, it's been quite a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that, I just was busy and not in the mood to write this story. Inspiration oddly struck me today, so I've managed to get out 4,000 plus words for you all.

Hopefully you all like it!

:)

* * *

Luke pulled his truck up to Lorelai's, pushing the gear stick into park and turning off the engine. His eyes fell onto the white house that sat in front of him. He stepped out of the car and into the chilly early morning air. Getting up this early was the norm for Luke, but what he planned to do that day was far from what Luke would consider _normal_. After talking with Jess outside of that lawyer's office, where the kid _begged_ him to find another way to go about getting custody, Luke decided to try just that. And that was why he was standing in front of Lorelai's house near seven in the morning on a Saturday, his mind flashing back to the image of his nephew sleeping soundly on his bed as he quietly snuck out. The kid had had a nightmare earlier that morning, around two, startling both Danes men awake, but Jess had shrugged it off, put on that blank, emotionless mask again, and went back to sleep after having a quick smoke. He was worried about his nephew's constant nightmares, and was definitely going to look into them more later on, but, for now, he'd deal with one massive problem concerning his troubled nephew at a time. Today, it was custody.

He had started his way out of town square before his mind fell back onto that sleeping nephew of his for the first time since he glanced the kid's way before leaving. He realized was leaving the kid without any supervision. Luke was almost afraid to leave his nephew alone. He didn't know what the kid would do, and he wanted to make sure someone had a good eye on him. That's when Lorelai came to mind. Surely, she'd watch over Jess for him for a few hours. He only planned to be gone half the day. He would have told Jess what he had planned to do last night, but he didn't want to bring up Liz or the custody case. Jess had been completely absorbed in a book anyway.

Since Luke lacked a cell phone and was already on the road, he had turned and made a pit stop at her house. The early morning wake up would probably not please the Gilmore, but he needed her to do him this favor. She had insisted that if he needed anything she'd be there, and he needed her now.

Luke made his way across the yard and up the old stairs that led to the front door. When he reached the door, he was hesitant to ring the doorbell, Rory suddenly came to mind. He didn't want to wake the teenage girl up, but, then again, how else was he going to talk to Lorelai? Luke pressed a finger against the button and heard the muffled sound of the ring from behind the door. A few seconds after that, Luke caught onto the faint sound of sluggish footstep gently pounding against the floor as they made their way to the door. He heard a swift clank and watched as the door swung open, revealing a very tired and disheveled Lorelai. She stared at Luke for a second, a little surprised to see the diner owner, before speaking up, "Have you come for an early morning booty call, Luke?" Lorelai jibed with a smile. "I'll have you know that if I haven't had my coffee, I'm pretty much dead."

"I can't believe you're already using sarcasm this early." Luke replied as he crossed his arms. "How are you possibly awake enough to come up with it?"

"Sarcasm is my second language, dear Luke." Lorelai reminded him, still wearing a smile though she looked half asleep. "My mind's just filled with jibes waiting to come out." She paused and leaned against the doorframe. "But, I'll try to keep my flannel and lumberjack comments to myself for now, if it pleases you. Now, what brings you here so early?"

"I'm wondering if you can do me a favor." He started. Lorelai gave a nod, motioning for him to go on. "I need to go somewhere for a few hours and I was wondering if you could check on Jess for me - make sure he's still breathing and all - while I'm gone."

"Of course, Luke." Lorelai replied. "Where are you going? To see that lawyer in Hartford again?"

"No." Luke told her, almost wishing himself that he was going to see that chunky lawyer instead of who he actually planned to visit. "I'm going to New York." A pause. "To talk to Liz."

"Oh." Lorelai replied, expression changing to one Luke couldn't exactly read.

"Jess doesn't want to get the law involved, and I'm hoping that maybe I can convince Liz to just let me keep him." Luke explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The kid had been through so much already, and he was hoping that he wouldn't have to put him through the ordeal of family court. Hopefully, his sister would comply.

"You think it'll work?" Lorelai asked, crossing her arms and studying her friend. She felt for him. This situation was very difficult, and she admired him for taking it on. Taking on a teenager was not an easy task, but taking on one like Jess - a very _damaged_ kid - would complicate the matter even more. If she was in Luke's position, she didn't know if she'd be able to handle it - hell, most people would have probably tossed Jess into foster care or sent him away to a hospital, unable to deal with the boy. Luke wasn't like that though. Her friend was a good man, a man who would always put his family first and never toss them aside if the going got too rough.

Luke kept quiet for a second, face not shining much assurance, before giving a shrug of his shoulders.

"I don't know." He answered. "But I've got to at least give it a shot. I'm not too thrilled about going to see her, especially after what she did to Jess. It's going to be hard to keep my temper in check."

"Well, if that temper does make an appearance, add in a few nasty names from me." She told him. "She deserves a lot worse than just a few bad names for what she did to that boy, though." She paused for a brief second, uncrossing her arms and standing up straight. "Don't worry about Jess while you're there though, I'll keep a good watch on him." She gave Luke a small smile. "The kid won't even be able to have a smoke without me glaring down his back, I promise." She raised a hand up. "Scout's honor."

Luke gave a nod, lips forming a small smile as well.

"Thanks, Lorelai." He told her. "I'll call Caesar when I get to New York and tell him to let you up when you come."

Luke decided to keep the diner open that day, leaving Caesar in charge. He had quickly given him a call before he left, alerting him that he would be the one opening at seven thirty. It was a Saturday, one of his best days for business, and hell, Luke was going to need the money if he couldn't convince Liz to let him keep Jess. Lawyers cost a hell of a lot - something he had forgotten.

"So, the diner _will_ be open today." She exclaimed. "Thank God! I was wondering how I was going to feed my daughter this morning. Me and cooking don't really work well on Saturday mornings."

"You and cooking _never _work well." Luke replied with a roll of his eyes. "The only thing I could imagine you cooking on a Saturday morning is a Pop Tart."

"And it would be a mighty fine Pop Tart, I can assure you." She declared with a smile, pointing a finger his way. "The best damn Pop Tart ever heated in a toaster!"

"I've got to get going." Luke told her seconds later, eyes glancing down at his watch and taking in the time. He wanted to get to New York as quickly as he could. The sooner he was there, the sooner he'd be able to get it over with and start heading back here. He hated cities for one, and this trip wasn't exactly shining any hope of a good time to change his views.

"Go on, then." Lorelai told him, ushering him away with her hands. "Your nephew's in good hands until you return."

Luke started his way back to his car, taking a few steps back as he still faced the Gilmore. "Thanks again, Lorelai. I really appreciate -"

"Luke," She cut the man off with a smile, "it's no problem. Now, get going and give her hell. Make sure that kid stays here permanently, whatever it takes."

Luke nodded and stared at the smiling Lorelai for a few more seconds before swiftly turning on his heels and spotting his car a few feet off. He sped up, determined and ready to get on with his trip. He was going to make sure his nephew stayed with him. He'd protect that kid like he promised himself he would years ago. He would not be letting him down again, he wouldn't stop fighting this time. Like Lorelai said: whatever it takes, he would do it.

* * *

Jess had woken up to an empty apartment and the humming of customers in the diner below. Luke had left a note, written in his nearly illegible handwriting, stating that he'd gone out somewhere and he'd be back a bit later. There was the expected reminders to eat and to _please, _smoke outside. But Jess wasn't going to be taking them into consideration. He had already lit his first cigarette, but he had opened the window to dump his ash. There, that was compromise. Technically, that was outside.

The streets felt quiet, even if there were people about them. Even with the noise downstairs, with the TV on, playing some stupid sitcom at a high volume, things still felt too quiet for him. In New York, there was always cars blaring their horns, sirens blasting down streets. This felt like silence to him, and silence was uncomfortable. He felt like a sore thumb in silence, he stuck out when there wasn't something overtaking him, like a siren or a massive crowd of people to distract wandering eyes from him.

Oh God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't stay_ here_.

He had been thinking about that ever since their trip to Hartford. This wasn't _him. _Living in a small town, above a diner. Small towns were for happy people. Like on TV. You never saw someone like him in a small town. They were filled with cheery, quirky, smiling neighbors. The eccentric lady who lived next door, the clumsy, comical idiot cop. Smiling, innocent children who had problems along the lines of losing a dog or breaking something of their parents. Who would he be in a small town? Where does someone as screwed up as _him _fit in?

No, it just doesn't work. He shouldn't be here. It's decided.

He got up from his spot at the window, cigarette still dangling between his lips as he made his way over to the closet and pulled out his duffle bag. It was time to leave. He couldn't take it here, he couldn't stay somewhere that he stuck out. He didn't belong anywhere, but at least in the city it wasn't as noticeable. He was just some kid to most, he wasn't the son of Liz Danes, he didn't feel like such a _freak_. And making Luke take him in like this? It was wrong. Luke didn't deserve to have to put up with him. Luke was a good man, and Jess, he was just bad. Liz had always told him he was bad, he wasn't _Jess _anymore. Jess was a good boy, Jess didn't give attitude, Jess loved his mother ... _You're not Jess, you're not my son! _But he _was _Jess, and that voice didn't belong to his mother. That voice belonged to whatever thing whispered these evil things to her, placed this thought in her head that _he _wasn't her son anymore. He hated whatever that voice was, he hated it for what it made Liz do to him. His mother could have been a good mother. He could see it sometimes, he could place her face on any woman from one of those old sitcoms and see his mother being sane, normal, _good. _If only the voices didn't talk to her, if only she didn't do drugs, if only things had been different for her ...

Jess stuffed articles of clothing into his duffle bag, looking around his messy half of the room to find clean clothes. He took a quick drag from his cigarette, running a hand through his unkempt hair while looking around the room, thinking, planning. He was running, he'd never done that before. But it wouldn't be too hard, right? He had practically been taking care of himself since he was a little kid. He could handle this. He'd borrow some money from Luke for a bus ticket - no, no. He couldn't take Luke's money. That wouldn't be right. He wasn't going to steal from the man, nor would he be his burden. Luke was too good of a guy, this shouldn't be happening to him. It was selfish of him for staying this long anyway, and it was selfish for him to be wanting to _stay. _He liked Luke, he remembered things being okay for him here when he was a kid, and Luke was the closest thing he had to any type of real parent. But, he was easier when he was a kid. He wasn't damaged goods, he wasn't so _screwed_ up.

He wouldn't be selfish and stay because it felt safe, because he liked his uncle. He wouldn't force his uncle to keep him because he wanted a parent. He had grown up a long time ago, he didn't _need_ a parent anymore. It was already decided. He was _leaving_. He'd hitchhike to a city, start over there. He'd be _okay._

"Planning to bolt already, huh?"

The voice startled him, causing his body to jolt and he quickly turned to the voice, spotting Lorelai Gilmore standing in the door, arms crossed, smiling slightly.

"Did Luke's flannel obsession scare you away?" She asked. "It is a _scary _thing, isn't it? I mean, _all _flannel, all the time? It's a little too much."

Jess just stared at her, eyes a little wide, surprised by her sudden appearance. He gripped the strap of his duffle bag, and seconds later turned back to his stuff, starting to stuff books into the near full bag. He didn't care if she caught him, by the time Luke got back he would make sure he was long gone.

After finishing with what he felt he needed, he dropped his bag for a second and tossed his cigarette out the window, grabbing his pack from the windowsill and stuff them in his pocket, along with a paperback in his back pocket. He swiftly grabbed up his duffle bag and picked his leather jacket up off the floor, nearing the door. Lorelai quickly shut it and kept her place in front of it, arms crossed.

Jess went to grab the knob, but Lorelai slid to the side, blocking his hand from the knob.

"Sorry, Jess. But I can't let you leave." She informed him. "Luke would _never _let me eat here again if I did that, and let me tell you, that would _kill _me. Literally."

"_Move_." He hissed seconds later, narrowing his eyes at her. She was pissing him off now. Why was it _her _business to get involved in this? If he wanted to leave she couldn't stop him. She had no authority over him, she had no _fucking _right to come in here and block the door.

"Nope." She shook her head, standing her ground.

The two of them stared at each other, both wearing challenging glares, ready for a fight. He was determined to leave, and she was determined to make him stay. One thing Jess didn't know was that Gilmore's were very determined, and once they set their mind to something, they wouldn't _stop _until they've won.

"You don't _understand!" _Jess insisted, "I can't stay here!"

"Try me." Lorelai replied, ready to listen and reason with the kid. Luke would kill her if she let him leave, and he was in no way ready to go out on his on. Studying the kid showed her that. He hadn't showered, hadn't combed his hair. She bet he hadn't even ate yet. He needed help, he needed_ Luke._

"I don't belong here. I don't fit." He told her, hoisting his bag up higher onto his shoulders, eyes off toward the ground. "I won't make Luke take care of me."

"You're not _making _him, Jess." Lorelai informed him. "He _wants _to."

Jess let out a snort. "No one _wants _to take care of someone like me."

"Well, kid, I can assure you, Luke does." She replied. Staring at the kid, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was so down on himself, it was heartbreaking. Had Liz really beaten him down so much? How could a woman who was supposed to be his mother do that to him? She really hoped Luke was giving her a piece of his mind, and she really hoped Liz would do the right thing and give Jess a good home.

"I'm better off on my own." Jess retorted with a shrug.

"Jess, I know -"

"No, you don't _know!" _He cut her off fiercely, light brown eyes flashing back up to her blue ones. "Don't act like you know _anything _about me or my life! _I _know what's best for me, and leaving is the only thing that'll work!"

He hated when people did that; acted like they _knew _what he was going through, like they knew anything about the living hell he'd been through. People knew nothing, and he planned to keep it that way. The look that this stupid Gilmore was giving him now assured him that he wasn't going to be telling. He already got pitiful looks, and he didn't need to make the pity even worse by exposing his scars.

"You're right, Jess." She suddenly declared, surprising him, causing his eyes to go a little wide. "I don't know anything about you or you life, but I do know this: Luke would do anything for you. He's determined to make things right now, to fix this, tohelp _you_, and if you stick this out instead of running away, I can promise you things will work out. You'll be _okay_. Luke will take care of you the way your mother should have."

Jess stayed silent, eyes stuck on some spot on the ground, still clutching his bag with white knuckles. He still wanted to leave, Lorelai could tell that much, but she could tell she was also getting through to him a little. If she kept assuring him that things here would be okay, maybe she could get him to unpack that bag and stay, at least for today.

"How about this," Lorelai started, determined to keep the kid here for just a bit longer. "You stay for a little while, see how things go. Now, I can't keep you from leaving forever, and neither can Luke, so if you don't like the way things are going after a couple weeks, you can leave if you want. But _please, _Jess, give it a shot. For Luke."

Jess stood silent, contemplating what the older woman had said to him. His grip on the bag began to uncoil, and seconds later he had thrown his bag and jacket back over to his messy side of the apartment.

"For Luke." He mumbled to her, turning his back to her and pulling out a cigarette as he headed over toward the television.

Lorelai's lips grew an accomplished smile as she watched the boy plop back down onto the couch and smoke his cigarette, eyes landing back onto the TV, sucked into the show. She had won the battle, and Jess would be staying - for now, at least. Hopefully, Luke could make sure that it would be permanent.

* * *

Luke made his way down the familiar corridor that he had travelled with Jess days prior, remembering the route his nephew had taken him through, leading them to his apartment door. He had remembered the number surprisingly, even though he had only made a quick glance at it. As he reached the door, the smell of piss floating around the hallway finally starting to make his stomach feel a bit sick, he knocked, hoping his sister was home. He knew she was out of jail, and he had come early to make sure he caught her before she could go out, but from what he remembered, his sister rarely went out.

Seconds after his knock the door opened a crack, and Liz's hazel eyes peered out from the filthy apartment. When she spotted him, those eyes got wider, and the crack in the door did the same.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She hissed his way, clearly unhappy to see him at her front door. "I don't want to see _you._"

She started to slam the door, but Luke's hand quickly went to stop it from shutting, expecting this reaction.

"Liz, we've got to talk about Jess." Luke insisted, the two glaring each other down from the small crack in the door.

She stared for a few seconds more before letting go of the door, allowing Luke to push it open. He followed her into the apartment, watching as she made her way over to the couch. He closed the door behind him, studying his disheveled sister's form. She looked worse than Jess had, which wasn't much of a surprise. Her hair wasn't combed, and she hadn't even gotten dressed yet. She looked much older. She wasn't aging well. His sister used to be so beautiful, but she had taken a hard fall once she was diagnosed.

She suddenly turned around swiftly, an ashtray releasing from her hand and heading straight toward his head.

"You _stole _him from me!" She screamed at him as Luke quickly dodged, the tray smashing into the wall and denting it, a few pieces of it breaking off.

"He's my son Luke, why do you keep taking him from me!" She was furious, temper out of control, and she was clearly off her meds, as Luke had suspected. God, why couldn't his sister take her pills, for Jess' sake? He hated seeing her like this. He loved his sister to death, and it was painful to see her so screwed up.

"You know, _they_ warned me you would do this one day." She told him, letting out a sick laugh. "They told me to you'd try to take him back. That's why I never told you where we were. I kept us hidden."

"_They _aren't real, Liz!" Luke reminded her. The voices told her a lot of things, and he hated those voices as much as Jess did. His sister wasn't his sister when the voices took over. "You tried to kill him, and you almost succeeded. Thank _God_ you didn't."

"I didn't want to kill him! I didn't mean for that to happen." She insisted, voice going down a few notches in volume. She went silent for a seconds, taking a seat down on the couch, reaching out for her pack of cigarettes. She was calming down, thankfully.

"Luke," she started again, seconds later. "You have to understand, I don't mean to hurt him, I really don't. It's just-"

"I know you don't." Luke let out a sigh and sat down next to Liz on the couch. She was acting like his sister again, the sister he had taken care of for so many years, the little sister he always vowed to protect. He couldn't bare to hate her when she was like this. He could hate the voices, he could hate the fact she never liked to take her meds, but God, he couldn't hate Liz. He wanted to, and at times, he felt like he did, but she was his _sister. _How could he ever truly hate her?

"Why did you stop taking the medication?" Luke asked her as she lit her cigarette. "It helped."

"It made me feel like crap, too." She informed him, taking a drag. "And it made me feel crazy. _Reminded _me that I_ am_ crazy."

"Liz, you've got to start taking the pills again. You've got to get this under control again." He told her, receiving a nod in reply from his sister. "You've got to worry about yourself right now, you need to worry about getting better. Just, let me take care of Jess. Don't make us go to court for this. This is tearing him apart already without that. Just, let me keep him."

"No." Liz shook her head, temper beginning to rise again. "He's _my _kid, Luke! If you want a kid so bad go have your own, but he's _mine!" _She paused, inhaling quick and exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I can get better _and _take care of him. It's my job. And besides, he's all I've got, Luke, and I can't be alone. He's the only one who stays with me."

"Fine." Luke let out a sigh and rose from his seat, staring down at his sister. "I'll fight for him then. If you're going to really do this, I'll make sure he'll never you see again. I don't trust you with him, Liz. I never will again."

"Stop messing with my life, Luke!" Liz shouted, rising up from the couch as Luke began to walk away. "I don't need my big brother anymore! He's _my _son! My baby! I'll never let you have him!"

Luke didn't respond, didn't even look back. He slammed the door swiftly behind him and started his way down the hallway, ready more than ever to get back to Stars Hollow, and to Jess.

* * *

Thanks you all so much for reading, and I hope you review!

I don't know when the next update will be, to be honest, but I will try to continue, I promise!:)

Thanks again for reading!


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